The State We're In
by pollyglyph
Summary: Paulie always promised himself he'd never let Iceburg get involved with his gambling debts. But when one of his bookies asks a favour only Iceburg can grant, Paulie's left with no other option. (Multi chapter)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

* * *

He never made a regular habit out of it, but now and again, Paulie trekked out to Kiwi and Mozu's bar, formerly Blueno's, to sit alone and think things over to himself with only a tall pint glass to answer him back. He would sit in his usual seat in the corner, order his usual brand of beer, talking his usual small talk with the girls as he ordered, grouching at them to put on another layer or two so their drunken customers didn't get the wrong idea, and would hear the usual, defiant yet amused teasing in reply. At two to one, they always won. Yet, this evening when the sisters expected it, his talk and their ensuing banter never came. They asked him what was wrong and he just shrugged it off and left for his seat in silence.

"I'm telling you Mozu, something's up with him tonight," the sister in pink remarked, filling up a half pint glass of their house draft beer. She watched Paulie stare straight through the glass he'd been nursing for over an hour, handling a cigar that he seemed to be using more like a reverse air freshener. It wasn't a strictly non-smoking establishment, but usually they'd tell him off. Smoke made the bar air stale and unwelcoming. They let him continue for now. He looked like he'd been having a rough enough day.

"Well, sometimes guys just don't feel like talking," Mozu replied, grabbing a tray and helping her sister fill up a round for a nearby table. "Bro got like that sometimes y'know? If he wants to talk, he'll talk, ok?"

"I guess so."

"Lemme talk to him," came a croak from the bar front.

"Ms Kokoro?"

"Sometimes a man needs silence, but sometimes a man needs a mother's ear," she announced, getting up from her stool with a little wobble. Whether her confidence was well founded, or it was just the booze talking, neither sister could tell. With the old drunk it was usually a combination. "Let's see if I can't get'm talking."

"Well we couldn't get anything."

"But good luck Ms Kokoro."

Kiwi shot her a thumbs-up and Kokoro returned it their way.

"Luck, ha! Don't need it. If I could get yer old bro Franky talking in one of his moods, I can get anyone talking."

She waddled to his booth in the shady corner, and settled herself down into it with little grace, but Paulie barely took notice.

"Yer looking awful preoccupied there Paulie."

"Ms Kokoro?"

He glanced up at her in a daze.

"Mind if I sit with yah?"

He hesitated a moment.

"Well, go ahead, you might as well."

"I'd offer yah a drink on me, but looks like yer still busy with that," she gestured at his glass, still half full or half empty depending on who you'd ask about it. She'd say half full, but Paulie was a mutable sort and seemed more of the half empty type to her right now.

"Yeah. No thanks, I'm still good here."

"Penny for yer thoughts?"

There was something about the old woman that invited trust, and that, no matter whether a person deemed it in their best interest to talk to her or not, they found themselves completely at ease and loose of tongue. Her natural maternal aura, coupled with the comfortable knowledge that she was likely already drunk and out of her senses, made her seem a harmless and natural sounding board for those in need of it.

Paulie sighed. It was long, weary and thick with ashy toned smoke.

"I've made a right royal fuck up of things this time."

"What ya do? Get yerself into more gambling debt again?"

She swigged from her bottle.

"No, that's not it," he started, cupping his hand to his head and nursing his temples beneath the straps of his goggles. "Well, I mean it's how it all started, but that in itself's pretty minor in comparison to the rest of it all."

"And ya need to talk about it? Well kid, I'm here and listening."

"Jesus, I don't even know where to start," he mumbled, nervously sucking in smoke and letting it circle laps of his mouth. "And besides, I don't feel like I even have the right to tell someone the half of it. I don't know. It feels like the sort of thing... it'd be bad people knowing about."

"Come on kid," she coaxed and almost as clumsily as she sat down, she got back to her feet. "Let's head somewhere a bit more private. I'll be yer confidant."

"Alright, yeah."

He quickly swallowed the rest of his beer and clambered out from the scruffy booth without argument.

"See you tomorrow girls!" Kokoro waved back to the bar front, as Paulie scuffled behind her, fishing in his top pocket for his matchbook and a fresh smoke for the journey.

"Bye Ms Kokoro, bye Paulie."

Paulie gave a gruff mumble back. The sisters took this as his own brand of reluctant friendliness, or at least figured it was the best attempt at a polite goodbye the guy could manage to muster. He never really did properly say goodbye even on a good day.

"Strange how she can do that…right?" Kiwi pondered.

"I know! Teach us, oh great Ms Kokoro," Mozu joked to her sister, bowing her square afro in the old woman's wake.

* * *

They sat together at her kitchen table with glasses sat out between them. Kokoro produced half a dozen bottles, clinking them together into a busy crowd at the centre. She always kept the lights in her house dim and curtains drawn, dreading the day she might finally sober up from eight years of drinking to the worst hangover in history. Paulie sat tapping his cigar into a makeshift ashtray they fashioned for him from an empty milk carton cut roughly in two with a sharp vegetable knife.

"What'll yer poison be?"

"I'll drink whatever," he answered, unsure what half the bottles even were, scrawled as they were in strange foreign words he'd no idea how to pronounce and would feel a fool trying. "Something strong maybe, whatever one of those that might be."

"No real point in drinking anything soft."

"I don't really drink to get drunk usually, no offense."

"None taken," she replied, picking out a few bottles and throwing splashes together impulsively in their glasses. "I'm a drunk, yer a gambler, these are our crosses to bear. Here yah go. I call this cocktail a Paulie, hah! Don't know how it'll taste mind."

She slid a glass his way, and he took a tentative sip, reeling at the sharpness.

"Well, if you want to get drunk, that'll do it."

"That good is it?" she laughed.

"Let's just say a spoonful of medicine would go down far easier."

"So, about this big mess of yours Paulie?"

"So…" he began.

* * *

It all started some months previously. He'd been tipped off about a yagara bull that was sure to win big at the races, and at the odds it was given, the winnings would have been enough to pay back everything he owed and still have money to spare. And he _never_ had money to spare. Long story short, he'd scraped up everything he could and lost it all. But at that stage, it was really nothing new.

"Yeah yeah, you'll get it, end of this week for sure," he called down the receiver of his transponder snail.

"End of this week Paulie," his bookie answered.

He was a nasal voiced shrew of a man Paulie was happy not to be talking face to face with. His breath stank like milk past its prime. Not yet fully sour, but still off.

"That means end of this week. Look, I'm pretty easy on you, as things go. I go easy on you cause you're a hard worker, and a guy that no matter how many times I have to come knocking on your door, I know eventually you produce the goods, right?"

"Right, of course. You're very generous," Paulie hated ass-kissing, but as a chronic gambler, it went hand in hand with the job requirements.

"Now, here, I gotta tell you something. So my beloved Granmama, she's taken sick."

"Oh, uh, I'm really sorry to hear," he answered with sympathy, but also a little suspicion out of necessity. His bookies were rare to share personal details unless they had a reason to. "Is it serious?"

"Oh yes, she's not in a good way at all."

"That's… Unfortunate."

"It is, it is."

The line went quiet for some time. Hesitantly, Paulie gave him the answer he knew the man was looking for.

"Is there… anything... I can do?"

"Paulie my man, I wasn't sure you'd ever ask," his voice twanged. "So we need to get her an operation. Problem is, waiting list is miles long. But here's the thing here, if someone important, say I don't know, maybe like _the Mayor_ were to put a word in, I think we'd have a chance of getting her seen sooner."

"You want me to ask Mr Iceburg to get in contact with the hospital?"

"It's a minor favour Paulie, in return for all I've done for you over the years."

"Well, look," he asserted, starting to lose some of his patience for the bookie's game. "I know you've been really patient with me, and I'm sorry about your Grandmother, I really am. But I always promised myself I'd never get my boss involved with my debts."

"That's too bad Paulie… Too bad, you know?"

"Yeah, it is too bad. You'll get your money end of the week guaranteed, but I'm sorry. I just can't help on this one."

"Have a little think about it Paulie," he warned. "Let me know tomorrow if you change your mind alright? Otherwise I might need that money a bit earlier for lining the doctors' pockets, and I might have to send my guys over to collect it. And you know what? They really don't like having to visit people who can't give them what they want. Get a bit angry sometimes."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes Paulie. So call me when you change your mind."

"Look, I'll ask him ok? That's all I can do," he relented.

"Thank you Paulie. That really means a lot, you know?"

"Yeah yeah yeah…" he trailed off, as the shrew ended the call without even a goodbye as a courtesy.

Paulie clapped the receiver back down on his snail, and let his face fall into his palms.

"Christ…"

* * *

It wasn't that he didn't want his boss knowing about his vice, Iceburg was already aware of it after all, had even seen him chased down the cobbled streets of the shipbuilding district by strange sharp faced men in suits and dark glasses after their wads of cash. But he made a point of keeping his hobbies separate from his professional life. And gambling sure as hell wasn't very professional. While it was true that sometimes Paulie admitted he took a bookie's threats a little too lightly, he wasn't keen to see if anyone would ever threaten to take it out on someone else he'd roped up into what should have been his own mess and his alone. Broken legs he could deal with, they'd heal well enough in time, but broken friendships he was keen to avoid at all costs. He'd had enough broken friendships to deal with lately for a lifetime. Such as certain guys whose names no one at Galley La mentioned anymore. Their betrayals still enraged him just as much as they upset him to think about.

Before he could change his mind, he forced his hand to knock on the huge rosewood door looming in front of him. The whole main headquarters had been rebuilt down to the slightest detail just like the old one, so that even the pattern carved into the dark wooden panels might have been an exact match to the millimetre. It was almost uncanny how good Iceburg was at his work.

"Mr Iceburg, sir?"

"No need to be so formal Paulie," came his boss's dampened voice from behind his new office door. "And the door's unlocked, you can come on in."

He pushed it open to see Iceburg sat at his desk, where he remained engrossed on Paulie's entrance. His head was bent low over his drafting table, and lit by the light of his gas lamp at its side. His mouse sat, as ever, quietly on his shoulder faithfully watching him sketch. Paulie came just short of the desk, a little tentative to get too close and break his concentration.

"Sorry, force of habit sir, uh I mean…"

"Well, that's quite alright," Iceburg laughed a little.

"So I always told myself I'd never come to you about this…"

Iceburg looked over to him, carefully sliding off his glasses. Paulie noticed he only ever seemed to wear them while drafting.

"Debt again? How much do you need?"

"Well, yes and no," Paulie answered sheepishly. "I'm not asking for money sir…"

"I'm afraid I don't really understand."

"So, the collector Mr Iceburg, he's asked a favour from me, well more from you, I guess…"

"A favour?"

"His Grandmother's not well. Seems pretty bad, but she's on a waiting list to be seen and he'd like her to move up that list, so to speak, " he scratched his neck out of nervous habit. "He thinks if you talk to the hospital, they'd do it. I'm really sorry for asking."

"Hmm well, usually I wouldn't really do this sort of thing," Iceburg thought calmly out loud, though his brow tensed a little and he cupped his chin in his hand. Paulie heard the light bristle of his beard over his fingers.

"I know, I know, Mr Iceburg, I shouldn't have asked you at all."

"But I'll see what I can do. I assume they didn't give you any other option."

"Thank you so much sir, I really appreciate it," Paulie bowed his head.

"But, in exchange I need to ask a favour from you."

"Anything sir."

"Well, two favours. One, please don't call me sir. Like I've always said, it's unnecessary," he said flatly.

Paulie could never really understand his boss's distaste for the praise and respect he'd get from his workers. In fact, Iceburg's own humility on the matter only ever really served to make that same respect in the men grow all the stronger. But Paulie thought it best to try to honour the request, despite feeling that when it came down to it, their boss deserved at least as much as a few formalities and monikers like 'sir' whether he liked hearing them or not.

"Yes, of course."

"And secondly, Paulie, please try to stop gambling," Iceburg lamented, with a shake of his head.

"I, well I… I'll try," he answered, feeling suddenly small and embarrassed like a scolded child. "And honestly sir… sorry, Mr Iceburg. This won't happen again. I swore to myself from the get go you'd never get caught up in this, but I didn't really have a choice this time."

"As your boss, I honestly don't care what you do with your wages, or what you get up to in your spare time. But as a friend Paulie, I find this a bit troubling. Don't get yourself too deeply involved with the wrong kinds of people. It never ends well, and well, I suppose I should know."

Every now and then, Paulie could see Iceburg still thought over all the events that had not long transpired. He did it himself from time to time too, but for himself it had been no more really than a short, sharp and sudden shock, while Iceburg had been playing a much longer game, probably with extra details Paulie was still sketchy on and didn't ask more about for fear of seeming prying. Iceburg still seemed nervous at times, and Paulie wondered whether it was something that had always been there, even if he hadn't noticed it before the whole debacle had kicked itself off in full swing.

"I know, some shit I've got myself into," he confessed. "I'll stop, I know I need to. But every time I tell myself I will, well, I don't, or maybe can't… hard to kick a bad habit you've always had even when you know it's rotten."

"How about we drink to it? Would that help?"

"Alright, yeah. I could use a drink right about now."

"Do you drink scotch?"

"Sure."

He didn't, but he'd take anything Iceburg offered.

Iceburg got up from his desk to find the bottle he kept by his bookshelf. He was partial sometimes to a shallow glass or two with a little ice to himself if he'd been working late. But he found his decanter completely dry.

"Hmm, seems like I'm out though. Well, how about we head out to the bar?"

"Aren't you busy right now?"

"This can wait until later. Right now I think I could use a drink too."

Iceburg took Tyrannosaurus from his perch on his person, and gently placed him in his cage. He pulled a handful of pumpkin seeds from the top pocket of his shirt and offered them up to the little white creature like a peace offering in exchange for putting him away for the night. Paulie couldn't help but wonder whether he kept loose snacks for the rodent in all of his pockets, and wasn't sure whether it was disrespectful that the thought revolted him a little. It put him in mind of the elderly bums who'd sit in the park together feeding the pigeons. He chose to try and forget he'd seen it. Especially since he didn't need to go thinking about pigeons. He hated those dirty little bastards more than ever.

"Let me just grab a coat. I've heard it's supposed to be cold out tonight," Iceburg said, and moved to head for his bedroom. Paulie recognised it as a cue to leave the study himself.

"Sure."

* * *

"Well, so a toast then?" Iceburg raised his glass as a prompt. It was already his third drink of the evening, Paulie hadn't quite kept close enough check. Keeping his boss in line had never been something he'd considered as his job to perform, or something that would even be necessary.

"Um... to giving up vices and… ending shady deals that never should have been made in the first place," Paulie improvised.

"Cheers."

They tapped glasses and Paulie took a sip as he eyed Iceburg knock his own back in one take. He sat it down and looked Paulie square in the face.

"You have to promise me that's the end of it, alright?" he said sternly. Paulie found it a little disconcerting.

"Are you really that worried about me?"

"Well you know what happened. I'd rather not have any of us go through anything like that again."

"Hey come on, problems with bookies isn't anything compared to those shady government crooks and all that other shit that went down."

"Maybe. But you don't really know who has connections with whom sometimes. I just want you to be safe, that's all. And if you don't go looking for trouble, usually it'll leave you alone."

"Hmm, maybe. But it's not like _you_ went looking for it, right?"

"Well, that was a little different. Anyway, enough about all that."

"Sure," Paulie replied, though truth be told he was dying to talk more. He still had residual thoughts that he longed to have the chance to set out into words and get out in the open to clear a little awkward air that hung about not quite fully resolved. Like, why had Iceburg chosen him to hand those fake blueprints to, of all people? But he knew Iceburg was keen to let the matter drop, and his tone had been getting a little grave anyhow. There were times that his boss's words cut a little closer to the bone than he might have liked.

"Another drink Paulie?" Iceburg asked, much brighter.

"No thanks. Don't you think you should slow down a little?"

"I'm fine," he dismissed stubbornly.

"Well, suit yourself."

He watched as Iceburg made his way to the bar front, where one of the sisters poured him a shot of something lurid in colour that he quickly drank to the bottom with gusto. Paulie still wasn't entirely which lewd girl belonged to which name, but the one in the yellow bikini top poured Iceburg another while he chatted jovially with the pair, laughed and gestured to keep the alcohol coming.

He was never entirely sure how to react to Iceburg when he got like this. He could be unpredictably childish at times, and Paulie found it awkward to deal with. Perhaps it was just natural that once they hit the mid-life crisis all men eventually reverted back into ridiculous man-children, but he had too much respect for the man and his dignity to let him act a fool.

He made the decision to be responsible. He gathered Iceburg's coat over one arm; a long fine wool coat that Paulie noted he probably couldn't even afford the cost it would be to send off for dry-cleaning.

"Let's get you back home sir," he suggested discretely.

"Hmm well, yes ok. I've probably had enough," he slurred a little, and allowed Paulie to help him into his coat when offered. "Sorry Kiwi, Mozu, looks like Paulie thinks it's past my curfew."

"Aww boo, but the night's just getting started!" Mozu protested, sticking out her tongue.

"Stay a bit longer and chat with us, Mr Iceburg" Kiwi chimed in. "We don't get to chat with real celebrities in our bar often."

"I'm no celebrity," Iceburg laughed dismissively.

"Just B-lists like our little Paulie here," she added with a smirk in Paulie's direction.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" he grouched back. "Come on, Mr Iceburg, we're leaving."

"Well, goodnight ladies," Iceburg waved. "Thanks for the drinks."

"Goodnight Mr Iceburg!"

"Come visit us more often, won't you?"

"Well, I can't make any promises."

"Bye Paulie-wally," they teased.

Paulie grunted back noncommittally.

* * *

While a walk home from the bar usually sobered up a man a little, Iceburg had been drinking in such quick succession that it was only by the end of the walk that the alcohol had really started to settle in. He wobbled on his feet and Paulie had to rush to his side to steady him.

"Help me up the stairs, will you Paulie?"

"Jesus sir, I've never seen you drunk like this."

Paulie fussed over him, guiding Iceburg to hold onto the handrails, and propping him against himself, walking them up in step. Why did the head office have to have so many bloody staircases?

"Sorry about this Paulie."

"I'd say it's alright, but Jesus, you really went to town, didn't you?"

"I guess I've probably been having a bit much lately," Iceburg disclosed. "Well, I'll give it up. So let's drink to that."

"Forgive me sir, but that's a load of crap. No more. You're already completely wasted."

"I'm just having some fun. I wonder how long it's been…"

"What's this all about anyway? You're not still stressed out about all that?"

"If I tell you, you won't tell anyone, right?"

Paulie didn't answer immediately. Obviously he wasn't about to go about spreading out Iceburg's secrets like wildfire, but he had the distinct feeling that Iceburg would never have admitted what he was about to sober. And he didn't want him to have to regret it later.

"No…" he answered tentatively.

"Well, so I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping sometimes," Iceburg confessed. "It's probably a bit ridiculous for a man of my age, but I don't feel entirely safe at night lately."

Paulie gave a little sigh of relief. It was nothing shocking. And it was nothing that Paulie couldn't see why he couldn't have admitted without having to down at least five or six drinks beforehand.

"Right, well, that's completely understandable. I mean they broke right into your bedroom right? Anyone would find it hard to sleep or feel entirely safe in their home after something like that. It's not ridiculous at all."

"So sometimes a drink or two helps a little."

"Again, understandable. But not six. Getting drunk's not really the right way to go about it. I mean, for one it's not entirely safe sleeping after drinking that much. Watch, the carpet ends just here, don't trip on it."

"Well, I know that much."

"Anyway sir, here you are."

They stood outside Iceburg's bedroom door and Paulie tentatively let him go, glad to see he seemed capable of holding himself up steady enough.

"Thank you Paulie."

"I should really head home. Will you be alright sir?"

"You could stay with me."

When Paulie flushed, it started from the tips of his ears and spread in two bold lines to meet in the centre of his face.

"Uh, well, I… sir… I'm not…you know…" he stammered.

Iceburg laughed, nearly tripping himself in the process.

"Not like that."

Paulie shook his head desperately, mortified for mistaking it as a proposition.

"Oh, no, no. I didn't think you meant like… _that_."

"Just to make sure nothing happens," he clarified. "I'll feel safer if I know there's someone else around."

"Alright, I guess I can do that," Paulie answered, hoping desperately for his face to cool itself down. But thinking about how embarrassed he must have appeared to Iceburg right now only served to make him grow all the more embarrassed. It was a vicious circle. He found he couldn't meet him in the eye.

"… I'll sit outside the door if you'd like? But I can't promise I'll stay awake myself."

"That's fair enough."

"So I'll stay. But promise me you'll call the hospital in the morning."

"The hospital?"

"You know, that favour I asked?"

"Oh… yes, of course."

"Well, goodnight sir. You can rest easy tonight."

"Goodnight Paulie. Sorry again about this. Well, I really appreciate it. Hmm.. didn't I…?" Iceburg pushed open his door in thought. "Didn't I tell you not to call me sir earlier?"

"Yes, sorry, Mr Iceburg."

* * *

It took a little moment for Paulie to recover from shame. It wasn't until he realised that Iceburg might not even remember it by morning that he could finally rest easy. Still, why had that of all things been the first interpretation that had come to mind? It disturbed him a bit, but thought it best not to overanalyse it.

Pulling up a chair to the door brought back to mind the night they'd all sat outside his room together the night he was first shot; the night that had started it all. It was probably the first time he'd really considered Iceburg's mortality, not that Paulie had really believed Iceburg beyond reproach from even God, but there was something about a young man that naturally assumed his hero was somehow invincible. And since then, Iceburg seemed only to have become more and more human. Perhaps it was just a sign Paulie was growing up.

He found his eyes starting to close over of their own free will, and didn't put up a fight to resist. Iceburg was going to sort things out for the bookie in the morning. Soon, this phase of his life would be over.

Or so he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:  
**

* * *

When they reached the bottom of their glasses, Kokoro refilled them. It was never quite the same mix each round, but with each that passed, the difference was less distinguishable as their palettes dampened. Paulie drank slower, it tasted so vile his body wouldn't allow him much more than a sip at a time, but she waited for him to catch up before filling her own glass, almost as if she were edging him on. He stubbornly refused to pick up pace though, because while the drink might have helped to loosen his tongue, it also loosened his thoughts, and he wanted to keep his wits about him. He wanted to talk, listen, and still remember the answers in the morning. Paulie had questions about his boss. And she could tell.

"If it's Iceburg you're wondering about, then you're with the right person. Guess I can talk about it now, but yah probably didn't know I'm practically the man's mother," she said gently. "Yah know, he's a lot more vulnerable than everyone thinks he is."

"What? His mother?"

"Oh yeah, sure," she smiled. "More or less raised him since he was just a kid, me and Tom. We didn't all just work together, we lived together too. Tom's workers was more like a little dysfunctional family than it was a shipyard really."

She reached behind her to her countertop, and fetched the framed photograph they all still kept a copy of. She passed it his way like a smug parent showing off the sacred photos of their kids that they kept in their wallets.

"Here, take a looksee."

He took it from her, and sure enough there they were all together, just like an archetypal family shot. Doting father of his argumentative sons, and the proud, yet exasperated mother figure alongside them was clearly her, if about ten years younger and a hundred pounds lighter.

"Huh, I'll be damned. I had no idea."

"No, we kinda stayed out of the way, hadda maybe's more like it."

"It's only been lately that I've really been picking up on it, but was he always so anxious? I feel like I've never even been paying attention at all, some useless friend I am," he muttered, still staring down at the photograph held tightly in his grasp. They all looked so different back then, that dismantler Franky most of all. There was a slight chip in the frame, and he let a thumb run over the little groove.

Kokoro reached out to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He usually flinched to the touch of women, instead he just tensed slightly. She reminded him a little of his own mother.

"Not at all. You're concerned about him aren't ya?"

"Suppose so… "

"He was always a bit uptight I guess," she continued on. "He'd worry about things going wrong, keeping everyone safe, but never really talk about it, just yell at Franky if he was in a worried sort of mood. Eventually though, who knows why he chose me over Tom, but he started coming and talking, things I'm pretty sure he never told another soul. Not that they were ever that big a deal, but to him they musta been."

"Yeah, I get that. Just like how I didn't get why he had to get drunk just to say what he did to me that night. It wasn't a big deal."

"That's kinda just the way he is. Keeps to himself a bit and it's hard for him to trust people. I don't know whether that's just his personality or somethin' bad happened to him before he came to us. Water Seven was real rough back then."

He watched as she furrowed her brow a little and knocked back the rest of her glass. Some things about Iceburg, it seemed, were a mystery even to her. Without waiting for his glass to empty she knocked a little fresh tipple into her own. Maybe she'd stopped playing at whatever little drinking game she'd had going with him, or maybe in that moment she just needed a little more.

"What I don't get is that he must trust me enough, on some level, but I never seem to get past the surface," he thought out loud.

"What'd yah mean exactly?"

"Well, for example, I've been thinking how he called me in that night of the assassination attempt," Paulie admitted, with a little reservation. He reached for a new cigar from his top pocket and busied himself fiddling off its wrapper as he went on.

"He trusts me enough to do something for him, but not enough to tell me the details. I still don't really understand everything, other than I know it was some big ass deal if those blueprints were enough for the government to come after him for. If he's going to get me involved in something, I at least deserve that much right? The truth? Not that I can say that to him, but it's frustrating as hell."

"Why can't yah just ask?"

"I can't ask him questions, cause the minute the opportunity comes up he moves the conversation on and I've already lost my chance."

Paulie cut the top off his cigar, and lit the end.

"He's a stubborn one alright," Kokoro smirked. "But I agree, I think ya deserve it. I'll tell ya what I know, but from now on, don't be so shy to ask him. I know ya respect him and everything, but that's no reason to let him use ya like a doormat. Even I kinda wanna give him a piece of my mind for that one."

"Don't. I don't want him to think I've been going behind his back. Not when he's at least starting to trust me a bit. But I do think you're right though, I should try and grow a spine at least," he mumbled, tapping his fresh ash into the halved milk carton. It wasn't sophisticated, but it was doing its job as a de-facto ash tray just fine. The little plastic dish was now coated in a thick grey snowy layer. "Anyway, tell me everything Ms Kokoro."

She started from the top, right from start of the situation with Tom, filling in the gaps Paulie wasn't aware of, about the Oro Jackson, and Pluton's plans. She explained their significance, and of Iceburg's past eight years under the tight scrutiny of the agents investigating him, how he'd kept them off the trail, and how Franky fit in with it all. Paulie interjected here and there with questions, but largely reserved comment as she wove the tale for him.

"God. It really is like I haven't been paying attention. To think I didn't pick up on anything… kinda makes me feel like a self-centred bastard honestly," he grumbled at himself when she finally finished.

"Don't blame yerself. He was good at hiding it. This was a specialist intel group we're talking about and it took 'em a whole five years just to get enough to make a good guess. Nearly fooled 'em all too!"

There was almost a little pride in her tone, and he let her claim it. Were he not so frustrated about his own blind sightedness, he might have allowed himself the same.

"Did he always try to take everything on himself?"

"More or less. Iceburg was always trying to prove to Tom he could handle it, yah know? Had to act a grown up before he really was a grown up. Tom didn't have anyone else after all. No one wanted to work with the man who built ol Roger's ship."

"He never should've had to take all that damn responsibility on his shoulders," he barked.

From what he gathered, Tom was a great man and everything, but Paulie couldn't help but feel a swelling resentment for the guy and what he'd put Iceburg through. Iceburg had literally taken on everything in Water Seven as his duty, uniting and running the shipyards, taking over the Mayoral office of the city, and managing Tom's sea train, all presumably just to preserve Tom's legacy. It was far too much for any one man to reasonably be expected to handle alone.

"And here Mr Iceburg is, still trying to always fucking shoulder everything himself. What did he even have to prove to Tom anyway?"

"I think something in him was always scared of not being good enough," she suggested. "He'd never admit it, but he was dead jealous of that kid Franky and his lil battleships. Not cause he wanted to be that carefree too, but cause Tom always loved 'em. Thought the kid was a true genius. I always figured Iceburg thought Tom saw himself more in Franky, so he worked twice as hard to make up for it."

"Ah Jesus, how does someone like that have an inferiority complex?" he sighed. "It's just not right, he's the best damn shipwright in this city. And he's running the best damn shipyard in the world."

"Well, ya know, insecurities can be a powerful motivator."

There was a heaviness in Paulie's chest. If Iceburg didn't even think he was good enough himself, there wasn't a chance in hell he could think that Paulie, or any of the rest of the guys back at Galley La were. Was he, when it really came down to it, fundamentally unhappy with their work?

"Have you talked to him about all this?"

"I tried a little, back then. Now though we don't talk about those days much. We pretty much hadda just move on with our lives, and Iceburg, well ya know, some things he won't even talk to me about."

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Anyway, come on, out with yah, that's not the end of yer story yet," Kokoro replied, changing back the subject with another swig.

"No, not the half of it," Paulie answered, and yet again, it was his turn to be the story teller.

* * *

It took a moment when he woke to remember exactly where he was and why he was there in the first place. It gave him a jolt at first, and his first instinct was to get out his ropes and steel himself for a fight, and to make sure Iceburg was alright. It was only once he'd already knocked on his boss's door with some urgency that he came back to reality, and realised there was no need to be on guard.

"Hello?" Iceburg mumbled.

Paulie pried the door open a crack, enough to peer in just slightly and no more. He didn't want to intrude.

"Sorry about that Mr Iceburg, just checking on you," he said softly.

"Paulie? Is everything alright? What are you doing here?"

He still sounded a little docile and not yet fully alert.

"Well, I stayed outside your door last night, I don't know whether you… remember that or not."

"Hmm, vaguely now that you mention it. What time is it?"

Paulie glanced at his watch.

"About eight thirty-ish. Sorry, I just woke up myself," he replied sheepishly.

Work always began at Galley-La at nine, though ordinarily, Paulie would probably already be already stuck in at Dock One at this time on a working day.

"Guess we should get a move on then," Iceburg replied, pulling himself out of bed. He'd managed to kick off his shoes and coat, but was still nearly fully dressed after collapsing in the night before. "Paulie, do you want to head things up again with the city repairs today? I'm afraid I've got a lot to be getting on with around the office."

"Sure."

"Thank you. Anyway, you've all been doing great work lately. Keep it up."

"Thanks. I'll head on off then," he replied. He pulled his head out and shut the door when something important came back to mind with some urgency. He opened it once more

"Uh, actually, I couldn't just bother you a bit before I head on out? I hate to nag, but do you remember that thing I asked you about yesterday?"

"Hmm?" Iceburg replied. His shirt was half off over his head already. Paulie's face bloomed into a deep red.

"Well, so... uh… there was a favour I asked you…"

"Oh yes, that call. What was her name again?"

Iceburg continued stripping himself down of his old clothes and Paulie had to avert his eyes not to feel like a voyeur. Did nobody in this city, not even the Mayor, have any sense of shame?

"Well shit," he stammered. "I have no idea. Come to think of it, I'm not entirely what _his_ is even. Crap. My old man might know, but who knows if I'd manage to get in touch with him right now. It's worth a shot, but he's pretty good at disappearing under the radar when he needs to."

"Hmm," Iceburg sighed. He perched on the edge of his bed and slid off his socks, picking a little stray fluff out from between his toes. "Sorry. I'm not entirely sure what I can do for you just yet then."

"I'll find it out," he answered, now fully hiding in the hall behind the ajar door again to give Iceburg back his privacy and dignity.

"Sure?"

"I don't have any choice. You don't mind if I borrow your transponder snail right now do you?"

"No, not at all. Feel free to head on over to my office. And if you manage to get it, just write the name on a scrap of paper and leave it in the top drawer of my desk. I'll handle it from there."

"Thanks so much, really, I'm in your debt for sure for this one," he called, quickly snapping the door shut and letting it stay that way this time.

* * *

He stomped to Iceburg's office, trying to distract himself. That was the second time in as many days as he'd managed to get flustered around his boss. Mr Iceburg would take him for some babbling idiot.

The room was a lot messier these last few days than he'd ever seen it. Stacks of unfinished paperwork littered the desk, presumably the lack of someone to take care of the little finicky details for him was taking a toll, but worst of all was his drafting table and its surrounding area. Masses of heavy books piled high around it, a sign Iceburg was obviously hard at work researching or gathering ideas for a new project, and at least a dozen large parchment sheets blotted in dark ink lay on top, or spread out on the floor. Curiosity got the better of him, and he allowed himself a quick nosy over the pages. It was just sketches and handwritten notes by the looks of things, plans rather than blueprints just yet, though he wouldn't allow himself to snoop too closely.

Paulie let them be, went back to Mr Iceburg's desk and managed to eventually locate the transponder snail through the jungle of papers. He hadn't heard from his father in quite some time, always a clear enough sign he was lying low. But at times like this, the man always carried a portable snail for emergencies, or just in case Paulie's mother got it in mind to give him a call. He was worth a try. That man had come to the same bookie himself since Paulie was no taller than his knee height afterall.

He lifted the receiver and dialled.

"Dad?"

"That Paulie?"

It was the light, unmistakable tone of his father.

"Do you have any other children I don't know about?"

"Sassy," he laughed. "Sorry, I haven't called. On the run again, heh. Hey, how's your mother?"

"Still hates you of course."

"Of course," he replied. It was just simple matter-of-fact. "Anyway, is something the matter kid? You know this snail's for emergencies."

"I need to get a name off you," Paulie pressed. There was no point in beating around the bush.

"Who's the woman this time?"

"Not a woman, and it's never a woman dad. I'm not some dirty whore chaser like you," he scolded. "You remember that bookie, the one, mousey hair and odd little sideburns kinda like whiskers? I always said he smelt like bad milk?"

"Yeah yeah, Deano Blanco, shrew like fella," he chuckled.

"That's it. What do you know, you actually came through for me this time."

"What's that supposed to mean kid?"

"Just banter old man," his tone softened. As harsh as he judged him, he still frustratingly held a lot of affection for him too. A man's relationship with his father was always a complicated mix of emotions. "Anyway, you don't happen to know this ' _Grandmama_ ' of his? Her name, at all?"

"Hmm, I'm good with names, but I'm drawing a little bit of a blank. Could have been Lucia? Hey, any of you guys know?"

Paulie heard a small party of voices in animated discussion in the background. He was with his crew, a group of petty pirates who could really hardly even fairly claim the title. Not that Paulie felt it was an award to be won and boasted of though. They were more into the theatrics of scam artistry than the business of sailing the high seas, and never left the safety of the Paradise region of the Grand Line. They sank their money on expensive set ups and so that if they even reaped any rewards, they barely broke even. It wasn't an adventure worth writing home about, though his dad often did anyway.

"They're saying Lucinda, that's all I got. Either Lucia or Lucinda. Any good?"

"It's something at least. Anyway, even getting his name was a pretty big help."

"Aww don't be getting soft on me kid," he teased.

"Sorry you shitbag. Thanks for nothing. Is that better?"

"Haha, perfect. See you Paulie. Might come home for a bit soon. It'd be nice to see you."

"Yeah. Well you know where I'll be," he said. For him, that was as good as a written invitation. "Anyway, Aqua Laguna was rough this year. City's in pretty bad shape, if you want to know."

"Really hmm. Might be a bit of an opportunity there," his father mused, and Paulie could already feel the hints of something starting to brew in his mind.

"Don't even start," he ordered.

"Heh heh, no promises."

"I'm serious. Scheme it up again and I'll take it right to Mr Iceburg."

"I keep forgetting you're in with some big leagues now. Anyway, better go," he said cheerily. Any hint of trouble and the guy high tailed it out of there. He'd always been like that.

"Me too."

"Love to your mother," he added.

"How many times do I have to tell you that that saint of a woman's never going to take you back?"

"I know, I know," he sighed.

"Bye."

He scribbled out a quick note for Iceburg on a blank sheet he found in a tall pile of papers, and slid open his top desk drawer. Iceburg's flintlock sat at the top, along with a few stray bullets, and it took Paulie a moment of unease at the sight of it before he remembered why he'd opened the drawer in the first place. It seemed Paulie wasn't the only one quick on his guard lately. He sat the paper on top of it, and let it go without comment.

* * *

"Damn near gave me a panic attack this morning waking up there," Paulie confessed, through chews. He and Lulu had taken to spending lunch breaks together and they sat side by side with a small platter of sandwiches between them that'd been prepared specially for them by the locals. The two of them had each been tasked by Mr Iceburg to head a team working on city repairs while Tilestone had been assigned the principal management of duties back at Dock One.

"I can imagine. But what were you doing spending the night outside Mr Iceburg's room for anyway Paulie?" Lulu quizzed him with a suspicious sideward glance as he grabbed a bite of his own.

"Oh… I'm not really supposed to talk about it," Paulie dismissed. He almost felt guilty for it holding it over Lulu's head, but it made him feel privileged to have earned Mr Iceburg's trust, and he wasn't going to let it slide in a hurry.

"Trouble again?"

"No, nothing like that," he said with relief. "Anyway if I told you, you'd tell Tilestone. And if you tell Tilestone, pretty much this whole city's gonna hear about it. It's no big deal though. Nothing to worry about."

"Well, keep your secrets, I'm not fussed," Lulu answered, though Paulie could sense he felt a bit out of the loop. He would have too in his situation, but it was fully at Mr Iceburg's discretion to pick and choose who he told what.

"Anyway, if there's something bad brewing though, then let us know," Lulu continued. "Cause you're gonna need all the help you can get if it's anything like the last time."

"Sure, thanks Lulu."

"What're you guys gossiping about over here?" Tilestone's voice boomed suddenly above their heads. They both jumped.

"Speak of the devil…" Paulie remarked dryly, his heart still racing from the sudden shock. "God, for someone that talks so loud, you sure do walk quietly don't you?"

"Well, Paulie was just talking about Mr Ice…"

"I was just saying," Paulie cut into Lulu's sentence sternly. "That… Mr Iceburg's got a lot on his plate right now, so us guys really gotta pick up the pace around here, you know? There's plenty to get on with, so I don't want anyone cutting slack alright?"

"Sounds good! I'll work extra hard, I don't think you two'll be able to keep up!" Tilestone laughed.

"Oh, is that a bet?" Lulu smirked.

"Yeah it is!" Tilestone yelled back.

"Now things are getting interesting," Lulu added. "So what're the wagers?"

"Next pay-cheque as usual?"

"I'm not in on this one, alright," Paulie interjected. He had made Iceburg a promise.

"Chickening out Paulie? Hahaha," Tilestone taunted him.

"No way! I just, can't take you up on the offer right now," he protested.

"What, afraid you'll lose? Sounds like chickening out to me," Lulu ganged up with Tilestone. They always seemed to take each other's sides, and they knew how to push his buttons.

"Where do you guys get off calling me chicken? I could take you both, two to one!"

"And so the stakes have been set," Lulu declared triumphantly. "I'll call you on that. If you can get more projects completed and signed off than the two of us combined, both our wages are yours. Of course, if you lose, you'll pay the both of us in full."

"Sounds fair," he huffed. When his pride was on the line he couldn't exactly back down. It wasn't the same thing as an out and out gamble, so he wasn't quite breaking his word. "I won't lose you know."

"Is that a fact?" Tilestone roared.

"Anytime. Anywhere."

"Then, let's shake on it," Lulu announced.

He swallowed. "Fine by me..."

They took it in turns until each had shook the other two's respective hands.

It had been stupid. Brash and impulsive, but that was him to a tee, and he was confident that when it came to his work he couldn't lose, cause he sure as hell couldn't afford to this week. When it came down to it, it was just a friendly bet between guys, a way to try to motivate and better themselves. It sure as hell would give them all the kick in the ass they needed to get all the city repair work done in good time and get back to business at the dockyard as usual.

"Break's over then," he snapped. "Come on you slackers. We don't have time for sitting around eating sandwiches like this right now."

"Hey, but I just got here!"

"Too bad. Stay and eat if you want Tilestone, but you're gonna fall behind us," Lulu teased.

"You guys are so harsh!" Tilestone cried, and scooped a handful of left-over sandwiches from their tray and squished them into a pocket. He took another pile for the road for good measure.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get to it," Lulu consoled him, with a pat on the back.

* * *

"Well, it's been done," Iceburg told him. "It wasn't too easy mind you. Anyway, the receptionists have sent out a notice letter about the appointment and the family should get it in a few days."

"Sorry for all the trouble," Paulie apologised once more to him, from the front of Mr Iceburg's desk. It was nearing the end of the evening, but his boss was still there fussing over documents long after working hours were officially over. "But honestly, thanks so much for doing that. Hopefully that'll keep him off my ass for a while."

"Not at all. And I didn't mention it this morning, but thank you for staying last night Paulie," he said. Paulie could tell he felt awkward bringing it up, but was keen to express his gratitude appropriately.

"It was the least I could do," Paulie replied.

"And sorry about all of that too. I may have stepped over a line by asking you to keep watch."

"No, not at all, Mr Iceburg."

"I'm a little embarrassed about it to be honest. I was a bit of a state, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Really, it's nothing! There's no need to apologise," Paulie insisted. He understood the situation well enough. Iceburg had to do what he did just to get a good night's sleep. He'd probably barely been getting any rest at all lately.

"No, I'd like to make it up to you."

"Honestly Mr Iceburg, you've done more than enough for me already, you don't owe me anything."

" _I insist_ ," he asserted. He reached into the inner pocket of his blazer that hung over his chair and pulled out a small white envelope. "Look, I have some tickets for a concert this evening. I was going to stay in and catch up on my work tonight, would you like them?"

"I hope you're not having to miss it cause I took you away from your business yesterday," Paulie cringed.

"No, not at all, I wasn't really planning to go," Iceburg replied honestly. "As my secretary, Kalifa went along to these kinds of public events with me. But they aren't particularly enjoyable to go to alone."

It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind, but occasionally he wondered just what exactly Iceburg's relationship with that woman had entailed. Was it strictly professional, or was it, like her sleazy outfits, something altogether more suggestive? She could easily have been trading certain favours in search of secrets. Wasn't that the way these dodgy investigation things went?

"We really need to get you a new secretary. Like, not just for these sorts of public affairs things, but your work really has been getting on top of you lately. Pardon me for saying, but this place is a mess, and it looks like you're snowed under by paperwork."

"I'm getting by," he smiled wearily. "But it would be a great help to have someone managing my schedule again."

"What if I helped you go over it?"

"Oh, no, really. I've bothered you quite enough lately."

"No, _I insist_. It seems like you could do with a bit of a hand around the office at the minute."

"Well honestly, if you're willing Paulie I won't say no," Iceburg admitted. "Are you really sure?"

"It's fine. I'll have Lulu take over managing my… shit."

He stopped mid thought. At the mention of Lulu's name, Paulie remembered their bet and he groaned into his hands. If he was helping out Mr Iceburg all day, his chance of beating the two of them was slim at best. Not that he could suddenly go back on his offer to his boss now though. And he sure as hell couldn't tell him it was because he'd already broken his promise to him to quit gambling away his wages.

"Oh goddamn it all guys…" he mumbled into his palms.

"… Are you alright there Paulie?"

Paulie dropped his hands from his face to find Iceburg looking at him with concern. He tried to brush it off.

"Sorry Mr Iceburg. I'm fine, just, uh… thought I felt a bit of a migraine coming on for a second there. Really it's nothing."

He'd call it off. Those two would understand, right? It was an emergency situation this time. And if needs be, he was even willing to explain it.

"I'll transfer my half of the city repairs over to Lulu, he should be able to manage the guys, and I'll stick around the office and help with your paperwork and whatever else I can. Not that I'm great at that sort of thing, but I'll give it my best shot, and that's gotta be worth something at least."

"Thank you Paulie. Really, you've been more than just helpful lately. You're going above and beyond."

"I don't know about that really. Like I said, just doing what I can, you know?"

Iceburg didn't know the half of it. And Paulie'd make sure he kept it that way.

"Well, I really do appreciate it," Iceburg disclosed.

"So do you want to start and go over things now?" Paulie asked.

"Maybe not. I'm in the middle of something. We'll start tomorrow. Feel free to take the rest of the night off Paulie. And here, do take these."

He held the envelope out at arm's length and Paulie took it just to be polite.

"If you're busy I won't keep you back then. But I wouldn't have anyone to take along either, really. I'll maybe head to Dock One for a while myself, make sure Tilestone's team are doing ok."

"What about the girl you were seeing?"

"You knew about that? Jesus, word gets around here fast," he blushed. When he was flustered, he began to babble. "Didn't last I'm afraid. Honestly, I'm terrible with women. Never even seem to get past the first date so I wouldn't even go so far as to call that 'seeing' her."

"Well, she would have been lucky to have you."

"Thanks, I guess…" Paulie blushed even brighter. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to it then."

"Thank you," Iceburg replied. "Just come straight to headquarters then first thing in the morning, unless there's anything you need to wrap up first with Lulu."

"Yeah, a few odds and ends," he said. Not all of them were strictly work related either. "But once that's sorted, I'll come on over."

"Great, see you then. Have a nice evening Paulie. And if you go to that concert, enjoy it."

"Thanks again. Don't work yourself too hard now. And make sure you get some sleep tonight without drinking yourself into a coma, alright?"

He gestured over at Tyrannosaurus, running about in his wheel.

"I'll put that little guy in charge of making sure you don't."

Iceburg laughed but made no promises.

"Goodnight Paulie."

* * *

He gave the concert a miss. Classy events weren't really his scene, and like Mr Iceburg had said himself, events like that weren't particularly to fun to attend by yourself. He went on over to Dock One, but found it already empty for the night, so he decided just to head home.

He found his elderly landlady sat quietly on the staircase that lead up to his apartment.

"Good evening, Ms Lia," he said cheerfully.

"Oh Paulie?"

She seemed in a little bit of a daze.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Well, there were a couple of men around this afternoon," she explained anxiously.

"That shitty son of a whore… ," he raged. "They didn't hurt you at all, did they? If they did I'll have them for this."

"No, no, but they certainly weren't friendly. Is everything ok Paulie? I wondered if maybe it was someone looking for your father again."

"Nothing to do with him this time. Did they want to talk?"

He tried his best to keep his anger tamed, to keep calm and dial back on expletives for her sake, but it was a challenge.

"Not sure. They might have just been snooping about. Big brutes didn't say much," she explained.

"Thanks for letting me know. Anyway, don't worry about me, I'll be just fine."

"You take care then Paulie. It was nice to see you. You've been so busy of late I've hardly even seen your face."

"Yeah, you take care too," he echoed. "Oh, I hate to have to tell you this, but there's a chance I might be a little late with the rent next time. Just a small one. I'll most likely have it, I just thought it'd be better to let you know just in case."

"That's alright," she smiled kindly. "Anyway, I'm just glad you're alright. All you fine Galley La boys have been doing such great work since that horrible big Aqua Laguna hit, I could hardly get tough on you at a time like this."

"Thanks, but really we're just doing our job."

"Is Mr Iceburg keeping better now? I still can't believe what happened," she fussed.

"He's well on the mend you'll be glad to hear. A little shaken, but no worse for wear. Back to working himself to the bone again already."

"That's wonderful, I'm so glad to hear. You boys look after him well, ok?"

"Of course, you can count on us."

"Goodnight then," she said, and descended the stairs.

"Take care."

* * *

"What do you think you're doing sending guys round to scare my landlady?" he shouted into his receiver.

"I hadn't heard from you Paulie. I expected a little more punctuality on this. Well?" Blanco replied snidely.

"Relax, the call's been made, she'll get her appointment. They've sent out the details. Should be a letter about it coming your way in a few days," Paulie assured him.

"Good Paulie," he said, like a man praising his pet parrot for performing a new trick. It was demeaning.

"Look, I'm really not happy about this ok? I never wanted to get Iceburg involved in any of this ridiculous business of mine, so if you _ever_ go anywhere near him…"

"I don't think you're really in the place to be telling me what to do Paulie," he quipped.

"I'm serious. I promised myself he'd never get involved, and now that he has, I've had to promise him I'd stop. So that's it. I'm getting out. You'll get your money at the end of this week and then I'm signing off."

"He's pretty important to you. You're a real daddy's boy."

"Just say that to my fucking face, I dare you!"

"Easy Paulie. Cool it. You really don't want to get me angry right now."

"No, you cool it. And like I said, money, end of the week, I'm out. For good this time."

"Well, thanks for your custom over the years. You and your old man."

"Don't bring that piece of shit into this," he warned.

"Somehow, I don't think this'll be the last of you yet, but we'll see," Blanco mused.

"Go to hell," Paulie spat, and slammed down his receiver before he'd thought twice about whether it was really a good idea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Kokoro cupped her chin in her hand and grinned at him from across the table. As she listened to him speak, her amused expression barely faltered. While he was grateful for how it helped to ease his tale of some of its gravitas, he also felt her smile gently mocking his youthful naiveté. The older a person got, the more they seemed to think they knew better somehow. By now he knew all adults, regardless of age, went right on making the same kinds of mistakes they always had. They only grew more stubborn in their refusal to admit to or learn from them.

"So lemme guess then, the guys not let you off the hook bout that bet so easy? Real stupid thing to go and do there. What's it they say, play with fire and yer gonna get burnt?" she cackled.

"I knew damn well it was stupid," Paulie muttered.

He was annoyed at her lack of sympathy, but more annoyed at himself. He put his own foot into that one. He didn't really deserve sympathy.

"And I knew damn well I was breaking my promise to Mr Iceburg too. But sometimes a guy's pride overrides his reason and that's why people like me keep getting themselves in trouble."

"Well, ain't that remarkably insightful? Haha, well if you know full well what yer problem is, can't ya stop yerself before you go putting yer foot into it?" she asked.

"Nope. Never can," he admitted. "Too much of a hot head for my own good."

"Ya pick that up from your father too? Sounds like a right character."

"Doesn't begin to describe it," he sighed. "And no. My mother's the one with the temper."

"What? Didn't ya say she was some perfect angel or something before?"

"'Saint', I said. Long story short, when my dad ran off she became a nun."

"Ha, well you don't say? Certainly explains some things."

Her laugh shook the whole wooden table between them.

"Yeah, but I'll tell you more about that later."

He swallowed the last of his drink and let her fill him back up. Giggling as she was though, half the bottle sloshed across the table, staining it in a damp maroon. She reached behind her for a cloth and busied herself with mopping it up.

He was starting to feel a little tipsy.

"Right now, I kind of have something else to get off my chest," he confessed.

"Oh yeah?"

He hesitated a moment, as if to consider taking another drink first. He decided not. He didn't need more liquid courage, but he did need to talk.

He took a deep breath. She stopped laughing.

"… So, that night, the night Lucci and the rest of them came back for Mr Iceburg, I probably could have saved myself. But I stayed."

"Uh huh," she coxed him on.

"Course _those guys_ took us all down easily. Injured me badly enough, but he was so weak. And I didn't have the strength to carry us both. They tied us together and left us to the flames," he said.

He hadn't talked about it at all since, had barely even allowed himself to think about it. As he revisited it, he could nearly even smell the building singe. He remembered the dull thud of Iceburg's heartbeat racing against him, and how carefully he'd tried to keep his own steady in response.

"I could have got through those ropes easy enough, but if I left him alone there to die the guilt would've killed me. I didn't want to have any regrets. So staying and dying there with him… didn't seem so bad. I'm pretty sure I even said something ridiculous like that to him in the heat of the moment."

"What'd he say back?"

"I don't know… not much of course. That's just like him, right? But, maybe when a guy's about to die he hears exactly what he wants to hear to comfort him right before it happens..." he thought out loud. "Or maybe he hears exactly what he fears the most, so that death doesn't seem so bad in comparison."

"What'd he say?"

"Well, I thought I heard him thank me for staying. I have this feeling he knew. I expected him to get angry, but the fact that he was just grateful… honestly I don't know why, I thought I'd be glad, but actually it kind of scared me shitless."

He gave out a little nervous laugh, scratching his head.

"Course, if he really did say it, he's trying to pretend it never even happened. And if I just imagined it, I still don't know what to make of it either. I'm damn confused. That's probably why I've been getting awkward around him lately…"

"Sure, well for now, just let it be if yah don't know what ta make of it," she answered calmly. "I've never been bout to die, so I can't say I know if yah start hearin' things or not, but d'ya want me to talk to him? Find out the truth?"

"No. No, don't. Ah fuck," he cringed. It was enough to make him reach for his glass again.

"I shouldn't have said anything. Now you're gonna go and tell me it means I'm in love with him or something…"

"Well yah know, there's many kindsa love that'd make a person ok with dying fer someone. Doesn't have ta mean it's love in the romantic sense."

Paulie breathed a sigh of relief.

"No, you're right, of course. I can love him as my boss, as my mentor, or my friend, it doesn't mean, you know _, that_."

"But even if it did, though, there's no crime in it," she declared.

"Well, I don't know. I was always raised to think of it as a sin," he sighed.

" _He's_ gay though, you know."

He took another quick gulp of his drink.

"I know."

"Anyway, take yer time and just think it over. Might mean something, might mean something completely different," she said. "Might even mean nothin' at all."

"Yeah, well, like I said, I _want_ to talk it all over to try and clear the weird air between us, but he's not giving me the chance."

"Maybe I really should grab him by the ear and force him," she fussed. "Anyway though. So come on, what happened next then?"

* * *

He was up and out of his door just before eight.

He felt like he ran across the whole of the dusty backstreets before he finally managed to locate Lulu and his team.

"Paulie, you'd better watch out. My guys have been on fire this morning," Lulu said proudly, hands on hips and a cocky grin plastered across his face. "Already got the station repairs near finished up and it's not even time to start work."

"Look, Lulu. About that bet," Paulie began discreetly.

"What, you scared now? You should be. Ha, like I said, we're on fire today!"

"I'm one hundred percent serious here Lulu."

He stared Lulu straight in the eyes. Or where he assumed his eyes were underneath the flat black of the sunglasses that never left his face. He'd never seen them.

"I'll even take the forfeit, honest to God," he begged in hushed tones. "You have to call this thing off between us, alright?"

"Well, I'm willing to do it, but Paulie, you have to tell me what's going on alright? You're in trouble aren't you?"

"Yeah, well kind of," he began. "Debt. Needs repayed by the end of the week. And circumstances have changed. As it turns out, there's no way I can win. And I really need the money this week."

"Paulie. Look. I'm not saying I won't do it, but damn it, just be straight with me!"

"… Alright. So I told Mr Iceburg I'm going to start helping him out as a kind of temp secretary. He's struggling on his own around the office lately. You should see his office, mountains of paperwork everywhere," Paulie gestured grandly for emphasis. "So I thought he could use the help. So hate to have to ask you as well, but do you think you're up to taking over management of the city repair work on your own?"

Lulu's face softened.

"Of course, sure."

"Take my team along with you too, they're a pretty fresh faced and scrappy lot, but they're not doing too bad themselves. They'll be a good help."

Paulie patted his palm on Lulu's shoulder.

"Sorry to have to dump the extra work on you."

"Nah, it's fine," Lulu reassured him. "It's probably a good idea. Sounds like Mr Iceburg's having a tough enough time being down a secretary. And like I said, my guys are making great progress. Soon enough I'll get your boys up to par with the rest of them."

"Thanks Lulu. Seriously, the drinks are on me tonight… or, you know, they would have been…"

"I get it, it's alright."

"You know what I mean though. I really appreciate it. I'll definitely make this up to you."

"No worries, really. I get it. You'd do the same for me. Haven't decided whether or not to make you still take the forfeit or not though…"

"Like I said, as bad as it is, I'm willing to do it if that's what it takes."

"Said like a true man. I'll talk it over with Tilestone. As much as I want to just let you off the hook, I think we'd both kinda want to see that," Lulu chuckled.

* * *

He sprinted back to headquarters in an effort to make it in by half nine, and just about made it too. But it took him a moment to regain his breath after having jumped the stairs two at a time. Every single fucking staircase worth. If he was going to do that every day, he was going to need to quit smoking. He'd quit rushing instead. It seemed easier.

Iceburg was back over at his drafting table by the window, and turned alarmed as Paulie crashed through the door wheezing.

"Mr Iceburg… sorry… if I'm late," he panted.

"Not at all, I wasn't expecting you so early in fact," Iceburg answered.

Paulie felt Iceburg watch him gasp for breath, with an expression that quickly shifted from concerned to amused once he'd registered that everything was alright.

"You didn't have to exert yourself quite so much. Are you ok there?" he laughed lightly.

"Yeah… fine… give me… a minute. So many… damn stairs…"

"Take a seat if that helps."

"Thanks."

Paulie pulled out the chair at Iceburg's desk and fell into it, allowing himself a moment. He saw Iceburg hesitate as if unsure whether to return to his work and Paulie waved him back to it.

"Anyway," he managed eventually. "I sorted things out with Lulu, and everything's fine. He's taking my team with him. He'll do a great job, I can guarantee it. He and his guys are making record time on those repairs. "

"Well, that's great to hear," Iceburg replied. He didn't look up.

"Yeah."

The office went quiet, and Paulie decided to try to busy himself, taking a fistful of papers off a nearby tower that he was sure wasn't as high the last time he'd seen it. He took a quick flip through. There were pages flooded by lists of figures that he couldn't make heads or tails of. Flipping it upside down didn't help, not that he really expected it to. He realised he'd very little idea what kind of work Kalifa had done for the past five years, but it seemed more technical than he'd imagined.

"So, uh, where can I start? What do you need me to do?"

"Somehow, I think if I could answer that I probably wouldn't need your help right now quite as much as I do," Iceburg confessed. He continued to busy himself, quill scratching away at his parchment. "Honestly, I've kind of lost track of everything I've fallen behind on."

"So… sounds to me like maybe the best place to start would be to draw up a to-do list of all the stuff you're currently working on."

Paulie found a blank page and a pen, and scribbled a crude chart with two columns, headed 'job' and 'deadline' respectively. He was more proud of it than he knew it really deserved.

"Or _supposed_ to be working on…" Iceburg added.

"Or, yeah… that."

He wasn't overly impressed when Iceburg seemed to shirk unpleasant duties so lightly. He got to his feet and wandered to Iceburg's side, paper and pen in hand. He decided he needed a clipboard, secretaries carried clipboards.

He peered over Iceburg's shoulder at the culprit that had been distracting him from all else. The papers made no more sense to him than they had the previous day.

"Hmm… I don't mean to pry Mr Iceburg, but what is it you've been up to lately? From what I can guess, looks like you've been doing a lot of research."

"Well, yes. I'm starting out on a few new projects," Iceburg answered, with a brief glance up at him. "Even though they're not official business, they are taking up a lot of my time at the minute."

"Forgive me for being a bit forward here, but if they're not official, can't you put them aside for now?"

"Not really. Well, I wouldn't say they're urgent exactly, but…"

He trailed off, busy scribbling numbers. Paulie wasn't sure if the pause was a moment to make up an excuse, or whether he just got caught up in his calculations.

"You don't mind if I ask about them, do you?"

"I don't want to say too much until I know for sure if it's even possible," he said simply. "As it turns out, I'm struggling a little to work out the mechanics. That's why I can't really seem to set the two projects aside just yet."

"It's just me, you know? I'm hardly gonna go broadcast it to the local paper. Hell, I won't tell anyone,"

"Hmm, I suppose I can trust you."

"Of course."

Iceburg finally put his pen down to rest.

"I think what that incident proved is that we really don't have much control over the Puffing Tom," he started. He stared Paulie straight in the eyes with a fixed gaze that made him almost a little uncomfortable. He was serious about this.

"Technically, I might manage it, but really, there are people from the government all over the train. It's not really Water Seven's in the way Tom wanted it to be. We need to be able to use it freely without compromises."

"And how do we do that exactly?"

"I've thought about it. The only thing I can think of is that we build another. A Puffing Tom Two, so to speak. We'll be able to keep our own conductors, carry our own cargo, and pick our own destinations, though I haven't quite planned its route yet."

"Well, it sounds good. But are you sure they'll just let you use it as you please?" Paulie questioned.

"No, but they already have the Puffing Tom," Iceburg reasoned. "There's no reason why we shouldn't have full legal rights to make another and use it as we decide. Tom made the first sea train under contract with the government to earn his pardon. But I have nothing over my head needing pardoned."

"Hmm, it sounds great," Paulie said. Though he remained not entirely convinced. "But didn't it take you guys, what was it in the end… twelve years to build the first one?"

"Yes, but now I know how, it won't take long. It's simple replication."

Tyrannosaurus stirred from his perch at the top of Iceburg's desk.

"Well, if I can, I'd like to also make improvements on the original design of course. I'd love it to be a high speed line, but of course, we always had that problem with the Rocket Man that we never managed to solve."

He reached a finger out to scratch him, and Paulie watched him gently coax the little rodent back to sleep. It still baffled Paulie that Iceburg had developed such a fondness for a common pest he simply plucked from the ground one day.

"Is that the big struggle you were talking about?"

"No, it's the other project. It's a much bigger undertaking. Like I said, I'm not even sure whether it's possible," Iceburg sighed.

"And… that is…?"

"I've only spoken to Franky about this, so don't talk about any of this out loud Paulie," he asserted.

"I swear."

"Aqua Laguna was bad this year. And each year it is becoming clearer that this city is becoming in real danger of being destroyed."

Iceburg turned to gaze out of his window.

"What I plan to do is float the entire city. Turn it into a boat that can rise and fall with the waves, or, if it comes to the worst, we can move her temporarily away to safer waters during storm season if they become too violent to brave."

"I guess I understand now. I've no idea whether that'll even be possible, but if it is… it'd be like a miracle, huh?"

Paulie allowed himself a look out too. The sky was calm and bright, sun steaming warmly through into the airy room. On days like this it was hard to imagine it hadn't been long since the worst storm the city had ever seen.

"Well, I'm not sure about that exactly," Iceburg replied. "But it could work as a possible solution."

He was always too humble, but Paulie knew better than to offer praise he'd not accept.

"So those are pretty big jobs. Projects that are going to be on-going probably for the next few years at least, right?"

"Yes, I'd say so."

"So, I'm gonna just write those at the bottom of the list for now," Paulie said. He rested his sheet to the side of Iceburg's parchment roll and scribbled down the key words. "We'll work out later how to schedule them in to your regular routine, but you know, hate to break it to you, but just cause you have those on the go, doesn't mean they can take priority over things that need done right away,"

"Well, of course I know that," Iceburg answered him, pouting a little childishly.

"Sure," Paulie said. He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, so do you know what else you're supposed to be doing right now then?"

"Well, we have received an order for some replacement vessels for the Marine fleets that were destroyed in the recent incident over at Ennies Lobby. Most of them are our standardised design reissues, so I only have slight adjustments to make to the blueprints where they wanted some customisations made," he explained briefly.

Paulie bent over to write again.

"Alright, so that's on the list too. How long do you think that will take you?"

"Maybe a week or two at most. Of course, it'll take longer than that to build them though."

"Well, we might be down a few guys, but Dock One'll still be up to the task I'm sure," Paulie beamed. He was looking forward to getting stuck back into a good hard day's work at the shipyard.

"Alright then, any more Galley-La business before we move on to your other duties?"

"Only a small design project for fishing vessel," Iceburg replied. He reached beneath his desk to retrieve a scroll and unrolled a sheet of blueprints, spreading them across his table.

"Again, it's a fairly standard template they've opted for, with some customisation."

They didn't look standard at all to Paulie. Iceburg's drafting work was always immaculate, but again he knew his boss wouldn't accept the compliment even if he gave it.

"Hmm well, that, and there's a fairly lengthy insurance document to be filled out about the recent damages to the company headquarters as well."

"Well, that's great," Paulie enthused, jotting down the last few details to his chart. His make-shift schedule was coming together nicely. "Seems like you're not really that far behind at all."

"Not on Galley-La Company business, no."

"Are your, uh… mayor duties another story then?"

"Hmm, well, they're pressing me to make a public statement on recent events for the local papers," Iceburg complained. He rolled the blueprints back up and stashed them under his desk again.

"I've been putting it off by telling them I need some more time to recover. But they're pressing me to make it tonight if I can, and really I haven't quite had the time to work out how to word it."

"Sure… I mean, you can't exactly tell the truth about what happened there…," Paulie replied. "But how do you make up a good enough cover story?"

"Well, _how_ , exactly. "

"Guess that's going to take some thought," he pondered. What exactly could he say when all talk of CP9 would clearly be strictly off bounds? He scribbled _public statement_ down on his chart.

"Anyway, that's on the list. It's a pretty pressing one, so I'd suggest we get that out of the way ASAP. We'll work on that one today, together… if you'd like. Just do the press conference now and get it out of the way and you can get back to your work knowing it's been dealt with."

Paulie always liked to get difficult things done and dusted before he could dwell too long on them.

"Well, I was a little afraid you might say that," Iceburg groaned.

"What else's there to schedule?"

"That's where I start to get a bit unsure, I'm afraid. Well, if you want to try to work your way through all those papers you might have some idea…"

"And I was afraid you were going to say _that_ ," Paulie sighed.

* * *

Paulie had been working his way through papers for the rest of the morning, assigning them categories based on any kinds of commonalities he could decipher. He was still left with a heaving pile that he officially had labelled _misc_ , but unofficially was calling _no fucking clue_. Iceburg had busied himself working on his speech, and after a glance at his watch broke the silence that had been sitting between them.

"Do you want to take your lunch break Paulie?"

"Is it that time already?" he answered, surprised. Though the work was tedious, the time seemed quick coming in.

"I think I feel like taking a bit of a walk around the city," Iceburg announced, taking a long stretch of his arms. "It's been a while."

"I wouldn't mind getting out and stretching my legs," Paulie agreed. "Would you mind if I came along?"

"No, of course not," Iceburg smilied.

Paulie had expected a quiet afternoon, but Iceburg couldn't go far through the cobbled streets without approach as they walked, as citizens stopped him to talk. Iceburg cheerily indulged them and Paulie was stunned at how he referred to each by name without prompt, and asked questions about their personal lives in return. In contrast to how he'd often find him when they were alone, Iceburg's public persona was warm and available. He pulled close like the water at hide tide. From where Paulie stood, it felt like a mile of beach lay between him and the sea.

After a moment's jealousy subsided, he noticed that Iceburg's smile seemed strained, and watched how he seemed to jump a little too soon to fill silences. It was a convincing act, probably not dishonest, but forced none-the-less.

"Does it bother you that you can't get a minute's peace when you're out?" he asked as they walked, just the two of them together again.

"Well, I do appreciate their kindness. But it is a little exhausting," Iceburg admitted. "Anyway, I know a little place to get a bit of respite. There's a café close by, the owner doesn't talk much, and the place usually isn't busy."

"Alright. Still, it's kind of amazing. Do you know everyone's name in this city?"

"Hmm, I'm sure there's a few I don't know," he mused.

"No need to be modest."

"No, I'm sure there probably are some."

"Well, have it your way."

As a regular haunt of his boss, Paulie had expected the place to be grander, but the café was fairly modest. As they sat with their lunch, Paulie allowed Iceburg his silence, aware that he needed it, and newly flattered that he allowed it to hang in his company. Iceburg took out a page from his pocket, busying himself writing in between sips of tea. He'd taken his speech along with him, it seemed. Paulie considered telling him off for it, but he seemed to be caught up in the flow, so perhaps it'd been an aid to his inspiration to get out and find a change of scene.

* * *

"You'll be coming with me. It's your first official duty," Iceburg informed him. He'd scheduled the conference to take place that evening in the large function room they used for talks and events.

"Oh, I hadn't really expected that," Paulie mumbled, a little flustered. "Listen, I'm not sure this is a good idea. I mean, it's not like I really am your secretary, and I've never been great at public relations and that sort of thing. I'll just make you look bad."

"You'll be just fine, trust me."

Iceburg smiled, but Paulie just frowned sternly back. He didn't do well with the press that hung around Galley-La turf. They always tried to catch him off-guard or twist his words out of context. They were a spineless lot with little moral compass.

"Well, I trust you just fine, it's me I don't really trust. Not at a big official event at least."

"Hmm, you might have to get used to them you know. Kalifa went everywhere with me," Iceburg mentioned off-hand. Once again, it raised Paulie's less wholesome suspicions.

"Well, you don't have to talk, if that helps."

"Is there even any point then?" Paulie protested.

"I'll put it like this. You'd be doing me a favour if you come along. I could use the moral support."

At that, he relented.

"If you're sure I don't have to say anything."

"I promise," Iceburg reassured him.

* * *

They sat together at a table at the head of the room as gradually press officials in clean suits began to congregate. He glanced down self-consciously at his sweaty layers of denim. He was going to need to buy himself something much more classy and respectable to fit into Iceburg's social circles without standing out like a lost little shabby dock worker who'd wandered in through the wrong door. Not that he had the money, or would have it anytime soon of course.

"I feel so out of place dressed like this," he mumbled to Iceburg.

"You look fine Paulie, really. But here, if you're really uncomfortable, take this."

Iceburg removed his striped blazer and handed it over to him.

"No really, it's alright," Paulie fussed.

"Well, I insist," Iceburg replied stubbornly. It seemed like he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Paulie peeled off his jacket and replaced it with Iceburg's. It fit him awkwardly, a little too broad at the shoulders and narrow round the torso, and looked ridiculous paired with his cargo jeans and work boots. At least his own might have passed for a deliberate casual choice rather than some desperate attempt to blend in. He only managed to feel worse than before. His face matched the blush pink stripes near perfectly.

After another twenty minutes, give or take, the room finally filled to capacity, and Iceburg began proceedings with a casual introduction, opening up for questions.

"Mr Turino, from San Faldo Express. How are you Mr Iceburg? Is your recovery going well?"

"Yes, I'm keeping well, thank you for asking," he answered warmly. "My rehab has been getting on well. I'm not quite up to full strength just yet, but I have been signed off by my physical therapist, and hope to be up to full duties around the city again as soon as possible."

"That's wonderful news!"

"I've been a little behind on my work however, so I would like to thank all the citizens of Water Seven for their patience at this time."

"Paulie, is that Mr Iceburg's jacket you're wearing?"

It was another reporter in the crowd. Paulie gave her a side eyed glare, refusing to engage with the remark.

"Well, he spilt something on his own, so I lent him mine," Iceburg laughed, and the crowd followed suit.

"Ever the gentleman Mr Iceburg."

"Why _is_ Paulie with you today sir, if we might ask?"

"Paulie is my acting secretary, I asked him to accompany and assist me today."

"Is this a permanent arrangement?"

"Oh no, only temporary," he assured.

"The Paradise Independent, Mr Iceburg," called a balding journalist with a wide flared moustache. "Could you tell us about the assassination attempt? Who was really behind it?"

"Well, I'm sure by now, everyone is already aware of the recent events that took place here in Water Seven," Iceburg started.

Paulie had heard him rehearse the speech half a dozen times at least. He could almost have performed it as a duet with him, word-for-word.

"As we all know, the Straw Hat Pirates were initially assumed the culprits behind my assassination attempt. At Galley-La, we're known not to discriminate against customers, be they Marine or pirate. We had offered them a reasonable figure for the repair of their ship, but they drew issue with our assessment."

Paulie had drawn slight issue with this white lie, but Iceburg believed in maintaining client confidentiality. The Going Merry's drama was the Straw Hats personal issue, and not something to blag to the press.

"It was assumed they had acted under retaliation, but apparently their crew member Nico Robin, was acting independently of her crew with another organisation. After failing to take my life, not once, but twice, Nico Robin was apprehended and taken to Ennies Lobby. While I do not know any further details of what took place there, I can confirm that the pirates did return to Water Seven having seized back their arrested crew member."

"So, of the crew, only Nico Robin was involved in the assassination attempt?"

"Yes, that's true. In fact, it's now known in Water Seven that several other members actually assisted me and Paulie to vacate the fire at headquarters."

Another stood up, a stern female reporter with tightly pulled back hair.

"Who was she working for then?"

"Unfortunately I can't answer that question. We weren't able to determine the identities of the other assassins due to the masks and costumes they wore. But rest assured that it is under investigation."

Iceburg paused as mumbles spread around the crowd. They didn't seem satisfied by the answer.

"However, I can confirm that Franky, of Water Seven's ship dismantler team the Franky Family, personally built the new ship the pirates now sail, and has joined their ranks as the crew's shipwright," Iceburg continued, and it recaptured their interest.

"Franky, that gang leader from the backstreets?"

"Didn't the Franky Family have connections to Galley-La? They visited you for scrap trading, correct?"

"Yes that's true. We have done some business with them in the past. Well, in fact, I have recently employed the remaining members of the now defunct group as a specialist dismantling team."

The room erupted with questions, awkward ones that pried for a connection with Galley-La and the Thousand Sunny. Iceburg decided to move things on.

"Anyway. I would also like to use this press conference as an opportunity to make a public announcement concerning the Galley-La company," he announced.

This part of the talk was new to Paulie, and he sat up a little straighter, paying close attention.

"As you know, we recently had three employees leave the company. We are currently advertising for four positions, and I would like to encourage all of those with the necessary skills and experience to put themselves forward to be considered for the roles. I'm looking for a new secretary, and we also have three openings at Dock One, for a sawyer, an evaluator and a rigging foreman."

Paulie shot Iceburg a bewildered glance as he heard Iceburg offer away his position. Iceburg gave him a meek shrug back, as a pre-emptive apology. He was about to throw him under the bus.

"On that note, I would also like to announce my appointment of Dock One's Paulie as GLC's new vice president. I look forward to working with him, and over seeing his training as the company's eventual successor."

Press crews scrambled to their feet with camera men in tow. They swarmed the table, pointing lenses in Paulie's face and he stared back at them like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Water Seven Times. Vice president Paulie, can we get a statement?"

"Well, I'm as surprised as all of you are," he stammered. "This is the first I'm hearing of it too, honestly. I don't have anything prepared."

He shot Iceburg another look, made of two parts rage, and one part plea for assistance.

"Anything at all?"

"Hmm… well, I'll do my best," he mumbled shyly, beet red.

The crowd chorused in laughter.

"He's adorable!"

"Paulie, I'm with the One-Fifty Beri Daily. Can we ask, are you currently single?"

The woman shoved a large foam microphone in his face.

"No comment," he fumed.

Iceburg came to his aid.

"Thank you all very much for attending this press conference. I and Mr Paulie will not be taking any more questions this evening," he concluded.

He stood, and helped usher Paulie from the midst of the throng safely into the next room. Paulie stood behind the closed door and listened to the muffled noises of the excited crowd as Iceburg attempted to calm them and urged them to leave for the evening.

* * *

"Sorry Paulie," Iceburg apologised. "They were starting to ask a lot of questions, I thought it might help divert a bit of attention. Well, it definitely seems to have caught their interest."

"I'm really pissed off you know. I must have looked a complete ass standing up there in front of everyone with my jaw hanging open like that," he grouched back. He struggled off Iceburg's ridiculous blazer and dumped it back into his arms.

"You could have told me you were going to pull that one and I could have had a statement ready to go. They'll be thinking some complete incompetents' just gone and become the heir to the most important brand in the city."

"Honestly, it was a last minute thought. I hadn't really planned it out myself. If I had thought of it sooner I would have let you know," Iceburg apologised once more.

He placed a hand on Paulie's arm.

"And you did just fine, they loved it. It was an honest reaction. Very charming," he professed.

"Hmm… anyway, what's this about, _vice president_?" Paulie blushed. "Even if you just decided to announce it in the spur of the moment, don't think I can't tell you've been thinking about it."

"Well, yes," he admitted. He took a moment to plan his next words.

"I've been thinking it's about time to train a successor for the company. Well, if I had died back then, Galley-La would have died with me, and who's to say what might have happened to Water Seven."

"It'd be sunk," Paulie grouched. "Forgive the pun, but it probably would sink literally too."

"And that's why it's so important that someone's able to continue on my work," he explained.

If Paulie hadn't been otherwise so caught up in his own frustration, he'd have realised Iceburg was being more frank than usual.

"You seemed very capable today, Paulie. I just thought, well, there's no need to delay the inevitable any longer."

"Well, sure, I understand," he grumbled. " Not that I think I'm the right guy for the job though. But if you're sure about this, all I really can do is just try to do my best."

He scratched his head. It was jumbled with frustrations and worries, but in the midst was a budding hint of pride in the knowledge that Iceburg had genuinely assumed him a good fit to the role.

"Well, that's all I need," Iceburg told him supportively. "Anyway, there's no need to hang around if you want to get home for the evening."

"Yeah, guess I'll take off. I'll come back here early in the morning then?"

"Yes. Same time as always," Iceburg smiled. "Anyway, goodnight Paulie. And like I said, you did just fine."

"Goodnight," he huffed back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

It was remarkably quiet out at the shift station in the middle of the night. The Puffing Tom stopped running after midnight and didn't start again until six in the morning. So for that entire six hour period of the day, Kokoro's home became a solitary island of bricks and steel that you'd need a ship to get to and from. And Kokoro didn't have one. Paulie felt like he was out at sea as he stood and stared out the window, trying to make out the line of the horizon. The water was incredibly calm.

"Even kept yah in the dark bout that announcement right up to the moment itself, huh?" she said.

"Press's been having field days on me ever since," Paulie grumbled.

He'd started on his third cigar of the evening. Or perhaps instead, it was his first of the morning.

"Gotta be on my best behaviour cause they're all on the hunt for the next big scoop about my whole damn life story."

"Them's the breaks kiddo!" she smirked. "As it turns out, when you're good at something, people want a piece of you."

"Yeah, so I'm finding out. And it's not always just meant well either. I don't think I'll ever get used to it," he sighed.

It was late, and he was getting tired. He'd quit the drink by now and filled himself back up with some water from her sink.

"How does he even put up with it?" he asked. "He doesn't like attention much usually."

"Hmm… well how ta put this?"

She glanced over at the little framed photo of Tom's Workers that still sat out on her table.

"Ya have to think about how it was for him before," she explained. "There was just the four of us, five if ya count that big ol frog, though I imagine most wouldn't. That was it for nearly twenty years. Our world was so tiny."

"Well when you put it like that … guess maybe he appreciates being more connected now…"

"Yeah, think so," she said gently. "Y'know, back then, because no one'd have anything to do with Tom's Workers, there was a loneliness hanging bout those two boys that nothing could heal."

She stared down deeply into her glass, giving the last few drops a little swirl.

"Not me, not even Tom. Least of all each other with the way they got on, fighting an' all the way they did. But sometimes they tried. Bit of a mess really, but they ended up lovers, sorta, if you could even call it that."

She swallowed the last of it. He quickly turned back from the view to look at her, his face burning red.

"Iceburg… and Franky…?"

"Before ya go judging them, ya gotta remember… like I said, each other's all they had."

"I just… don't get it," he said, wearily running a hand through his hair.

He didn't really know how loneliness like that felt. But lonely or not, he couldn't even imagine how someone could casually choose a partner based just on proximity or convenience.

He didn't talk about it, but at nearly twenty seven Paulie was still a virgin.

"It was that or their own hand and eventually that wasn't enough for either of em, I guess," she mentioned. "I hadda give them _the talk_ myself an' all. Boy, that's a day we all wish we could forget!"

Paulie's cigar nearly dropped from his mouth.

"This is all getting way too crude and way too personal!" he protested. "Are you sure you should really be telling me this?"

"Nah, probably shouldn't be gossiping bout all that really now that ya mention it. Well ya did wanna know more bout him though, didn't ya?" she chuckled back.

"Well, yeah, but there's certain things I don't need to know! Didn't really _want_ to know."

"Ha ha whoops! Sorry if that made ya uncomfortable there."

She tried to laugh it off, but Paulie didn't join in, so she eased back out of it. She coaxed him over to sit down again with a tap on the table. He drew her curtain back over and did so obediently.

"Anyway, what I was tryin ta say, is he gets a lot back from it, being in the role he is," she said. "It's not just some burden to him ya know? And it's not that Tom cornered him into it either if that's what ya've been wondering."

"Sort of, yeah. Sometimes I thought he was just doing it out of duty to the guy."

"Well, there's a bitta that. Like I said, Iceburg tried so hard to make him proud. But Tom had always given him hope too, yah know? Gave him everything he had, a home, a purpose… hope for change and hope that maybe he'd find a way to heal himself as well as the city. That's why he does it."

"Cause he really believes in it," Paulie added.

His cheeks were still a little flushed as he smiled.

"Yeah," she smiled back.

"Hmm… you know, I'm glad," he said. "I'd hate to think he was slaving away the way he does with no reward."

He tapped his loose ash into the carton. They hadn't really made it deep enough. It was near full.

"I know you don't know much about what happened to him before, but how'd he end up coming to you guys in the first place?" Paulie asked.

"Tom just found him," Kokoro began. "Kid was sleeping rough, tryin' ta sell little things he carved outta wood in the street during the day. They were crude, but Tom liked em. He was so scrawny that Tom brought him home to give him a good meal."

"And that's all there was to it? Just started working with you guys after that?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Once he saw Tom at work, Iceburg begged him to teach him everythin'. Don't know where his parents were. Sometimes I wonder if maybe even he hadn't a clue. Tom decided we'd never push him to talk."

"Hmm, quite a story… where he started and where he is now…"

If it hadn't been for Tom and Kokoro, who knew where he might have ended up. Paulie'd heard some rough stories about the lives that some of the kids at the convent had lived on the street before the nuns had taken them in. No body deserved to have tales like those to tell. He only hoped that what Iceburg wouldn't talk about wasn't half as bad as some of the worst of them.

"Yeah, he did well that kid of mine," she said, puffing out her chest. "Course he deserves it too, not everyone does. There's not a better man that could be running this city."

"True," Paulie replied. He allowed himself some pride in his boss as well.

"Still… if anything happened to him, that's the end of it. I sure as hell am not ready to take on the job just yet."

She patted him on the head. He was sure it was meant well, but the gesture was more like something meant for a pet dog.

"Relax. It'll take time, but you'll get there. That's a worry fer years down tha line. Now just concentrate on learning how and… what was it ya said again… doing yer best?"

"Don't you go parroting that at me too," he grumbled. "I get it from everyone like it's my fucking nickname now."

"Ha, sorry bout that, hard to resist!"

"Anyway, you keep getting me side tracked."

* * *

He was stopped at a news stand nearby his apartment when he left in the morning.

"Mr Paulie hey! Come over here!" the owner waved him over.

Paulie wandered his way.

Iceburg's plan to overshadow the sparse details of the assassination attempt with the news of Paulie's appointment was a clear success by the looks of things. Some even featured Paulie's face alone on the front page, photos from the moment they had swarmed him for a statement, and he cringed at the images of himself blankly staring back like a startled animal.

"Ah Jesus," Paulie groaned.

"Impressive right? Think you must've made every cover this morning. Really did your best there, haha!"

The news guy nudged him in the ribs and he grimaced back. That joke was going to get very old very quickly.

"Here take one on me this morning, alright? You have a regular paper?"

"Call me cheap, but I usually just take a flip through whatever's lying around Galley-La's canteen. Don't often buy one myself," Paulie said, hoping to wave him off. It was more or less the truth though.

"Well, which'll it be?"

"Thanks, really, but I don't want one. It's way too embarrassing."

"Ah… come on!"

He threw an arm round Paulie's shoulder who irritably tried to peel him back off. At some point, an onlooker had appeared and approached them.

"Paulie!" she squeaked. "Sign one for me!"

He tried his utmost to remain contained.

"Alright…" he replied as politely as he could muster.

It wasn't long before a small crowd gathered around him. And quickly his patience to stand and listen was tested further than he could cope with. As soon as a slight opening formed through the swarm, he made a dash for freedom towards headquarters.

* * *

It was another day of scanning through paperwork, struggling to make heads or tails of the majority. He set Iceburg to work on finishing up his drafts for the fishing vessel first. It seemed likely he could get that piece finished off by the end of the day and it would be something for them to tick off and allow Iceburg to feel a sense of progress. He figured it'd be good for his boss's morale, but good for his own just as much to see he was managing to help things along.

He liked organising people and had a knack for it too, strict enough to get his boys at the docks in line, but soft enough to motivate them to stay there and see their work through to the end. Breaking the work up and starting on small tasks to build a sense of accomplishment often boosted productivity over at the shipyard. But he hadn't really expected it'd work on Iceburg just as well.

Iceburg's transponder snail rang.

"I'm nearly finished these," Iceburg called over. "I'll get that."

"Well, I'm sitting right here. And I am your acting secretary after all," Paulie reasoned. "You keep working on there."

"Sorry. I must be getting used to having to answer my own calls again."

Iceburg put his head back down.

"No worries," he answered, and lifted the receiver. "Hello, Galley-La main headquarters? This is Paulie."

"Ahh Paulie, just the man we were hoping to speak to," the deep voice started.

"Who is this?" he snapped. Then he remembered where he was, and remembered his manners. "May I ask?"

Iceburg glanced over.

"Water Seven Times. We were hoping to arrange an interview with you?"

"Sorry, not interested. See you," Paulie said, and quickly hung back up.

"Well, who was it?" Iceburg asked.

"No one important."

"It was the press wasn't it?"

"Got it in one."

They'd just about got settled back to work when the snail began to ring again.

Paulie shook his head. Day one and he was already tired of it all.

"That's probably just them again…"

"Sorry Paulie, I hadn't quite expected this much of a fuss."

"I'd like to say it's alright… but well, I'm still kind of pissed at you too," he grouched. "But I'll get used to it. Eventually. I'm sure."

"All things considered, you've been very gracious about it," Iceburg replied.

"It's not like it would do any good to stay mad at you over it," he answered back.

He took a sip of his tea. He'd made them both a mug earlier. He'd brewed it a little strong and the aftertaste was unpleasantly bitter. He wasn't surprised that Iceburg hadn't drank much of his own, though he'd taken a few sips at first to be polite.

"And besides," Paulie continued. "Knowing you were planning on announcing it at some point in the future anyway… I'd just have had to deal with it later on, so really it'd be no different for me if it's now or later, would it?"

"No. I suppose it would have been like this regardless of when it was."

They let the snail ring off. But it wasn't long until it started back up again.

"They're all crawling out of the woodwork now, huh?" Paulie said, exasperated.

"Just disconnect it."

"What if there's something important you need to answer?"

"Well, if you're not picking it up anyway…"

"True. Hmm, alright then," Paulie muttered. "This call'll decide it. If it's another journalist, I'm cutting the line."

"That's fair enough," Iceburg shrugged.

Paulie snatched up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hi there, Water Water News!"

Paulie dropped it back. He prized a finger underneath the snail's shell to flick the switch that prevented incoming communications.

"Fucking reporters."

* * *

"I don't even know if I'm gonna be able to leave the building without getting chased down," Paulie said nervously.

A crowd gradually gathered at the gates throughout the morning, and by lunch break they were making enough of a collective babble that Iceburg hadn't even needed to bring it to Paulie's attention.

They both watched from the window.

"Well, if you'd like, I'll go talk with them," Iceburg offered.

"Would you? And would that even work?"

They watched as a lone figure tried to scale the gates with little success. They slid back down the railings and landed on their ass. Paulie felt they'd only deserved as much.

"It should," Iceburg said. "Not that I have much to say to them, but I could keep them occupied long enough for you to get out the back."

"That would be great. Thanks. Really," Paulie answered.

"Not a problem. Well, it was my fault you're in this mess right now, it would only be right to take some responsibility for it."

"Damn right," Paulie said.

He sighed, steeling himself.

"Well, time to go and see what my mother makes of all this. If I don't go see her now, she'd probably never forgive me."

"I'll walk down with you and head out the front entrance," Iceburg assured.

He held the door for Paulie as they left the room. They walked together down the excess of stairs that Paulie now held a distinct grudge against. He considered fashioning himself a pulley system of ropes to hoist himself in through Iceburg's window next time just to by-pass them.

"Like I said, it should be safe to escape out the back route," Iceburg said. "There's no public access for civilians so it should be quiet for you."

"Know what you're going to say to them?" Paulie questioned.

"Not at all," Iceburg laughed apprehensively. "Well, I can make something up as I go along. I'm not sure what they'll ask either, but I'll try not to make things any more difficult for you."

"Well, yeah. Don't go making an ass of me. I could do that just fine on my own."

"Not at all," he dismissed, with a wave of his hand.

* * *

It never stopped taking him by surprise that the chapel was a lot smaller than he'd remembered it being as a child. Back then, the looming vastness of the space instilled the awe and fear of God in him just as intended. Now that he built ships far bigger and more imposing, the main hall seemed quaint in comparison.

Up at the front pulpit, staring up into the stream of blue light from the stained glass window, stood a stocky young nun. Paulie assumed she was deep in contemplation, but she turned to him at the sound of his heavy footfall echoing through the chamber. It took a moment for him to recognise her. Their robes made it so hard to tell the Sisters' apart.

"Jude?"

It was still strange for him to see Judith dressed in full habit. Though true to character her tool belt was slung on top round her waist.

"Paulie!"

She sprinted forward down the aisle to greet him.

"It's Sister Marie now, though," she explained with a grin.

"Have you finished your training then?" he asked.

"No not quite yet. I make my final vows in… well about half a year from now," she replied. "Mother just chose my name though, and I want to start getting used to it."

"Really going through with it, huh?" he smiled back.

She looked so deeply into his eyes that it threw him off balance a little. He blushed.

"Yep. Oh, and congratulations Paulie!"

She reached out her hand to grab his in a strong handshake.

"Of course, we all heard the news."

"Thanks… I guess," he shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Still not sure how to feel about it."

He glanced up at the high doming arches of the ceiling with fresh eyes. The place was beginning to show some telltale signs of age, but only as a workman himself now did he appreciate the skill required to make them look so effortless.

"No wonder, it's a pretty big responsibility Mr Iceburg's given you," she replied.

"Pretty big?" he sighed. "It's massive. Totally huge… don't know how I'm going to manage this one."

"Remember the day you decided that was what you were gonna do?"

She laughed a little, shaking her head. She crossed her arms with a proud smirk.

"We snuck out to go see the sea train launch. Just the two of us."

"Of course, how could I forget?" Paulie answered. "I was nearly too damn scared to go through with it, but you weren't going to take no for an answer."

"You were so excited when we got there though."

"Well, I mean, you saw it too. Most incredible thing we'd ever seen."

"Yeah, but you didn't even complain once, having to do all those chores. The train was all you could talk about to any of us other kids for weeks."

She adjusted her tool belt. Over the heavy cloth of her robes it quickly slipped out of place.

"I remember thinking that was so cool. I wanted to know just what I want to do with my life too, just like you," she explained, with wide eyes.

He glanced at the heavy metal crucifix hanging round her neck. In the end, she'd chosen God after all.

"I didn't realise I'd inspired you so much," he replied, with a scratch of his neck.

"You were so passionate about it, it was infectious," she beamed. "Course I still like to build a little bit too."

She flexed her arm proudly.

"I help out a lot with the DIY jobs around the nunnery and the chapel. See the big round stained glass window? "

"Uh huh?"

"They're letting me design a brand new one to replace it. It's kind of become my dream to be honest. To look after and fix up this old chapel with my own handy work."

"That's a good dream."

"Look, here's my plans."

She pulled a little folded sheet from a pocket on her tool belt and handed them his way with enthusiasm. Paulie looked over her drawings, not expecting to be impressed, so it pleasantly surprised him. There was a careful pencil sketch of the design, and a colour test in soft watercolours.

"Angels, huh? Looks really nice. You know, if you ever decide to quit there'd probably be a job at the shipyard for you."

"Ah, no, it's just a hobby for me," Marie dismissed. "Anyway, I think the other nuns are glad too. They say it's good to have someone to do all the boys' work around the place."

"You always did seem to fit more in with us guys, didn't you?"

"Guess so."

"Anyway, I'm here to see Sister Brigit," Paulie said at last.

He'd almost forgotten why he came in the first place. He couldn't imagine his talk with his mother going quite so well.

"You mean Mother Brigit, of course?" she corrected him.

"Oh, right, right. I'll never get used to that."

"It's alright. I'm sure it must be weird to get used to calling your own big sister 'Mother'."

"Yeah," Paulie replied, with a little ironic laugh. What no one else had known was that it had always been the other way around.

"Do you want to wait here and I'll fetch her for you?"

"Sure, alright."

He could have gone looking himself, but it was fine this way. He let Marie go.

"I'll just be a few minutes. Bye Paulie, it was nice seeing you again!"

"I'll come and see the window when it's done, so let me know, alright?"

"Sure!"

She waved, and he raised a hand politely back.

* * *

"Paulie!"

She ran in from the side door, past the first pews and flung her thick arms around him the way she'd only ever been able to do when they were alone. He always felt a little awkward about these dramatic displays of affection, but put up with it for her sake.

They spent so much time pretending she was his sister, that when she took up the role of his mother it felt a bit unnatural to him.

The door slammed, echoing round the high walls.

"I can't believe it. Vice president…"

"Yeah, quite something alright," he mumbled into the back of her veil. "Well, what do you think?"

"It's incredible. I'm really so proud of my little boy."

She stroked his hair. The way she clung to him, Paulie was worried she was never going to let him go.

"To think my own son's heir to the city. I can't believe it."

"I'm only vice president of the shipbuilding company," he corrected her. "I'm not vice president Mayor or something you know."

He'd taken to trying to prize her off subtly. There was only so long a hug was meant to last and she'd far out-maxed that limit. She squeezed him tighter to her round stomach.

"I know, I know. But the shipyard's so important here in Water Seven, you might as well be."

"No, not really," he choked. "It's just that Mr Iceburg happens to be both Galley-La's boss and the city's Mayor. I really won't have any say beyond the docks what goes on around here."

At Iceburg's name she finally released him, but clutched him still at arm's length. She was much shorter than him now, and Paulie could count the wrinkles fold on her forehead like incoming waves as she frowned up at him.

"He might be a fabulous engineer, but that Godless man has been leading our city into spiritual ruin for years," she lectured.

"Forgive me for saying mother, but what Mr Iceburg believes or doesn't isn't any of your business."

"Oh, this is what I've been worried about," she scolded. "Did you know? Since his election attendance at mass has fallen to the lowest it's ever been."

"Yes mother, so you've told me," Paulie groaned.

She began preening him, plucking the little stray hairs from his collar. He swished her away like her hand was a wandering housefly.

"And ever since he allowed it, this city welcomes pirates of all people. And no one has the guts to speak up against it," she said.

"You might not want to admit it, but pirates aren't inherently bad," he protested. "Hell, some of the pirates we serve at Galley-La are finer folks than some of the Marine officers that stop by."

"Oh yeah right. If they're all like that lousy father of yours they're good for nothings and sinners."

He sighed and took her hands in his in appeal to her better nature. Though he didn't care a great deal for it himself, likely because it'd always been forced upon him, his mother was weak to closeness and touch.

"This world isn't black and white the way you think it is mother," he said. "And the more time I spend away from here, the more I believe that."

She looked neither impressed nor convinced, but kept silent as he continued. He led her to sit down with him on the front pew to see her more eye to eye.

"Though I can understand why you're still angry with him, even he's not a bad person, dad. Just makes a lot of stupid mistakes."

"Idiot boy," she fussed, letting him go. "Guess your head's so full of ships now there's no room left for God in there."

"Maybe so."

"It's a bloody good thing I pray so much for you."

He glanced away from her.

"My mess is my mess. No need to go getting God involved," he shrugged. "Somehow I don't even know whether he'd take my side anyway."

"This isn't easy for me, you know?" his mother sulked. "Ever since that day you started talking about that damn train and wouldn't quit I knew I'd lose you to it."

"What did you expect? That I'd just stay in the church with you forever? It's a nunnery mother, I was always going to leave eventually."

"I'm not stupid."

"No. Just ignorant."

She flung her arms in the air in defeat.

"Look, would you drop it? Ok, I get it, I'm sorry for what I said about him."

He folded his arms.

"I'm sure if you just met Mr Iceburg you'd feel differently," Paulie explained.

"Hmm… I doubt it," she muttered.

"Look," he sighed.

He got back to his feet.

"Maybe I should just go."

"No, let's not leave things on a bad note, Paulie."

She placed her hand on his back, knowing full well a hug was the last thing he wanted.

"I am sorry," she stressed.

"Well, I probably took things a little far too," he apologised.

"And I am proud you know."

"Yeah."

"I'm just scared as hell of losing you," she laughed nervously.

At that he turned back looking down at her. She seemed so small sitting there in front of him.

"Guess that's how it's always been," he said to her face. "But I'm a man now. You're going to have to just let me live my own life."

"Well, that's probably the hardest possible thing for a mother," she admitted, looking down to her shoes.

She started to scramble for her feet and he helped her up. He let her reach out for him and take him back into her arms.

"I get that," he shrugged into her grasp. "Anyway, it's not like I'm going to stop coming to visit."

"No, you better not," she warned, but she laughed a little to try softening it.

"I promise," he said seriously.

"You know, you've grown up a whole lot since I last saw you. And it hasn't even been that long."

"Well, that's what a near death experience does to you, I guess."

* * *

"Oh, you're back," Iceburg called.

He was over at his writing desk and immersed in papers as Paulie stumbled in through the door a little later than he'd intended. He fell into the chair at the other side of Iceburg's table.

"Mr Iceburg... we have to do something about those stairs."

"Well, I'll get thinking about it," Iceburg chuckled and glanced over at him. "Anyway, how did your talk with your mother go? Did she approve?"

"We used to get on really well, but now it seems we argue a lot more nowadays. Different ideas but the same temper, so maybe that's the problem."

"Always yelling and arguing? Well, I guess I know what that's like…"

"Yeah, it's tiring."

He slumped further into the chair and wiped the sweat from his forehead, taking a breather.

"Anyway. And how'd it go with the press?" he asked back.

"Oh. That."

Iceburg was less than enthusiastic.

"Not good, huh?"

"Well… they asked me some things," he said vaguely.

"Oh here we go…"

"Sorry, I'm not entirely sure it went as well as it could have," he apologised.

Paulie noted that he didn't look up and it wasn't because he was overly invested in his paperwork, because he never really was.

"What exactly did you say to them?"

"Well… no doubt you'll find out in the papers tomorrow morning."

"Jesus," he muttered. "If you can't tell me I'm not sure I even want to know."

He pulled a cigar from his top pocket. He really needed a smoke.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked.

"No, go ahead," Iceburg conceded. "Sorry. I've just been making things impossible for you haven't I?"

"Not impossible. But not easy," he replied.

He lit his cigar and took a long draw. He felt himself relax a little.

"Anyway, just drop it. I don't care what you said. The press'll twist anything whatever way they want so even if you'd said nothing they'd blow up some big story about something or other."

"Maybe it would be good to arrange an interview with them," Iceburg suggested.

He gathered together his stack of pages and stapled them together. He placed them on the top of a pile that Paulie's little handwritten place card declared as the finances section.

"They'll hound you until they get one," Iceburg continued. "That's how these things work. Give them just enough to satisfy them and they'll leave you alone."

"Alright. I'll do it," Paulie reluctantly agreed. "But this time, I'm taking some time to prepare for it at least."

"That's quite alright. And if you need a break from looking through this paperwork to do it, I honestly don't mind."

He took up the next set of documents from Paulie's 'misc' section.

"I finished the blueprints as you might have gathered, so I've moved on to trying to sort those ones you couldn't."

"Well, that's a bit of good news at least," Paulie said.

He tapped his ash into the mug he'd used for his tea earlier.

"And thanks. Yeah I'd kind of reached my limit there anyway."

He reached into his back pocket for Iceburg's working schedule, scrambled for a pen and ticked off the fishing vessel project.

* * *

"Now that you're the VP, I should really assign you your own office," Iceburg said off hand.

It was well past working hours. He opened his office door to encourage Paulie to stop work and leave for the night for his own sake to get some rest. They'd scheduled his interview for early the next morning to get it out of his hair and the journalists off his back.

"Well, we did replicate the old headquarters," he added. "So we have an empty office in the new building that Kalifa used in the old one."

"You're always going on about Kalifa," Paulie pointed out.

No matter what, he always grew suspicious at her mention. He never did trust her type and hadn't ever warmed to her.

"She was my assistant for the last five years Paulie. When you're around someone every day for that long you develop a close relationship."

"Close…?"

"I considered her a friend of course, but I'm not interested in women."

"Oh…" Paulie uttered.

Iceburg had said it so casually that it took a moment to settle in.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have gone… prying like that. It was totally inappropriate."

"Well, now you know," Iceburg added, just as casual. "Anyway, goodnight Paulie."

"Um yeah," he mumbled awkwardly. "Same back at ya."

* * *

He could barely get to sleep that night worrying about what exactly the newspapers were going to have to say about him in the morning.

When he finally did, his dreams were slightly troubling for many reasons.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Paulie glanced down at his watch. It was fast approaching three o'clock, and he found himself struggling to stay awake. He rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin in his hand. Kokoro busied herself putting a kettle on the stove. He took out a battered envelope from his pocket and sat it on the table without opening it. It was the concert tickets that Iceburg had given him as thanks for keeping watch outside his room that night.

"You know, I found out how much these were worth," he began.

"A lot?"

The kettle began to whistle, and she turned off the heat. She placed a mug and a jar of instant coffee in front of him and filled it up.

"I had no idea," he said. "Course, he probably expected me to take them and sell them on for the money."

He opened the jar and tapped some granules into his mug.

"I don't even know what to make of it. I mean, I feel stupid for not even realising, but I wasn't looking for a handout. I told him I wasn't asking for money."

"Well, the sorta people that have trouble talking bout their feelings are the type that end up wantin' ta do things for the people round 'em instead. Can understand why yah might feel offended by it, but take it as a compliment if yah can."

"Even though I didn't want it, now that I really need it I'm kind of kicking myself…"

They heard a high pitched call from down the hallway.

"Granny!"

"Chimney, I'm in the kitchen," Kokoro called back.

Paulie took a sip of his coffee. It was far too hot and he winced.

"You left her home alone?"

"Yeah, she can look after herself. Besides, nowhere for her to run offta here," Kokoro answered.

She dropped back into her chair with a weary sigh. Paulie frowned at her across the table.

"What if something happened?" he argued. "Like some kind of accident? It'd take emergency services an hour at least to sail out here. You should really leave her with someone, she's not old enough."

"Are yah offering?" Kokoro laughed. "You worry too much! She's jus' fine. She's a lil hyperactive sure, but she's more responsible than ya'd think. Besides, I don't wanna be bothering him to take care of her all the time."

"Granny, I had a nightmare," Chimney whined, standing in the open doorway in her pyjamas.

Paulie turned in his chair.

"Oh! What are you doing here Mr Paulie?"

"He's stayin' here tonight," Kokoro explained. "A bit like Mr Iceburg does sometimes."

"Oh ok," she said. "Did you have a nightmare too?"

"Ac'ually, he did."

She tiptoed across the cold floor to the table and looked up at Paulie with wide eyes.

"Oh really? What was yours about? I dreamt some bad guys were gonna blow up the whole city with a big laser canon."

"Well apart from the canon, mine was pretty similar."

"Really?"

He nodded. Paulie gave no more, so she quickly became disinterested.

"Anyway Granny, I'm thirsty. Can I have some juice?"

"Not in the middle of the night sweetheart," Kokoro said.

"But I'm thirsty!"

Chimney looked at the empty bottles crowding the table.

"And you and Paulie're drinking juice!"

"Grown-ups can drink juice all night if they want. Though they always wake up with a headache in the mornin'. Ya don't wanna wake up with a headache do ya?"

"No, I guess not. Can I have some water then?"

"Paulie, could you fill 'er some? My knees are killin' me."

"Yeah, sure," he said. He got up from his chair.

"Glasses are in the top cupboard," Kokoro called.

He reached one down and filled it.

"There you go."

"Thank you."

"Now back ta bed with ya," Kokoro said. "Where's that rabbit of yours?"

"Gonbe's a cat Granny. And he's still asleep."

She drank her water in one go and placed the empty glass on the table so quickly it nearly toppled. She latched onto Paulie's arm and he blushed, distinctly uncomfortable with it.

"I don't wanna go back to bed. I want to stay."

"Come on now, me'n Paulie have things ta talk about," Kokoro explained.

"Oh like what things?"

"Secret things."

Chimney grinned up at Paulie and started to hop up and down, shaking him along with her. It made him feel all the more worn out.

"I like secrets, you can tell me secrets, I always keep them! I'll tell you a secret Mr Paulie if you tell me one. Mr Iceburg told me not to tell, but I'll tell you."

Curiosity got the better of him.

"Um, well, sure then, alright."

"Mr Iceburg said the last time he was here that I'm gonna get to start to learn how to be a train conductor soon. Isn't that cool? But don't tell anyone though, cause it's a secret. Sshhh."

He'd thought it'd be something about Iceburg himself. His heart sank, a little embarrassed he'd expected it in the first place.

"Now you have to tell me one!"

"I… uh… give me a moment," he mumbled.

"You have to tell me one cause I told you one," she said impatiently.

"I'm just trying to think..."

"How come you've been here telling Granny secrets all night but suddenly can't think of any now, huh?" she pouted, pulling at his arm.

"You're really annoying, you know," he grumbled.

She let him go and stuck out her tongue.

"Nuh uh, you are. Well, I know one of your secrets anyway," she announced. "Paulie likes that red haired pirate lady from the rubber pirate guy's crew."

Kokoro sent him a knowing look.

"Oh really?" she said unconvinced.

"That little harlot? Where'd you get that idea from?"

"It's true though isn't it?" Chimney answered.

"Come on now Chimney, off ta bed," Kokoro said.

She got to her feet and led Chimney out the door. Paulie was relieved to see her give very little protest. Kokoro stood guard at the doorway until she saw Chimney disappear back up the stairs.

"Well, better she thinks that's who yer interested in, right?" Kokoro laughed. Paulie didn't laugh back.

"You're treating this all like it's just shits and giggles to you," he said.

He reached for his mug and took another sip of his coffee. It was still far too hot.

"This is really hard for me, you know. Not knowing what I even feel…"

"Sorry."

There was an awkward pause.

"I'm so tired," Paulie said. "And this coffee's far too damn hot to drink."

"Maybe it'd be good for yah ta head on up an' get some sleep instead," Kokoro offered. "Then we can talk some more in the morning."

"Maybe," he answered.

"Ya can stay in the guest room. Want me ta get ya some fresh bed sheets?"

"No, it's fine."

"Come, I'll show yah the way."

* * *

He woke in a strange bed with a pounding headache wrapped in sheets that still smelt of Iceburg. He quickly kicked them off.

He sat until he calmed down and oriented himself. He was Kokoro's in home. He'd stayed in her guestroom, and the place still bore his scent cause he'd probably been the last one to stay. Not because they'd stayed there together.

He got up and made his way down the stairs.

"Mornin'!" Kokoro called as he entered the kitchen.

"Ugh, how come you're so cheery?" he groaned, sitting down. "My head's killing me and I didn't drink half as much as you."

"I'm used to it, see. You, not so much."

She stood a tall glass of tomato juice in front of him.

"That'll help. Can I fix ya some breakfast? Eatin' a bit'll make you feel better too."

"Alright then."

"So I'll get cooking and you get back ta telling me yer story," she told him.

"I've got half a mind never to tell you anything ever again," he complained. "But fine. It's not like I have anyone else I can confess to."

It was Sunday, so he was off work and in no hurry. He'd no intention of going to Sunday service with a hangover. The hymns would only hurt his head like hell, and his mother's slap on the wrist would be even worse.

He took a long drink of the juice, then started.

* * *

After a night of sleep interrupted by dreams about headlines of varying severity, Paulie finally found himself unable to get back to sleep when he woke just after six o'clock. The sun was just beginning to rise and streamed through the gap of his curtains impatiently. He showered, dressed and hurriedly left the house before anyone could be up and around to interrogate him on his route. He wanted to find out what the news said himself before it was rudely shoved into his face along with a pen and he'd be forced to smile back and sign it.

It took a few slight detours to avoid the early risers already about their business at ungodly hours. But much to his relief, he made it to Galley-La headquarters unnoticed and unscarred. His clothes had not quite been so fortunate.

"Shit," he mumbled and brushed down his knees.

A layer of mud had coated his jeans when he ducked down into a bush to hide from one of the local bakers out on morning delivery.

His shoes were also caked on the soles. He couldn't very well walk dirt into the headquarters' fancy wool carpets. He removed them, and found a hose in the yard to spray them down then lay them out in the sun to dry. He sat down on a bench beside them and glared down at the toe peering out of the hole in his sock.

"Morning Mr Paulie," called a voice.

He glanced up to see Mr Iceburg's housekeeper walking his way, a tall woman dressed in overalls, out emptying the bins. She stopped to throw her bags into a waste unit, then continued on towards him.

"Oh. Good morning," he replied.

He crossed his other foot over his sock with the hole.

"You're early today," she said.

"Two and a half hours. New record."

"Want me to let you in?"

"Sure. If you don't mind."

"Not at all." She smiled at him, fishing a ring of keys from her pocket. "Can I get you anything? Hot drink? Breakfast?"

"Not all that hungry, but some coffee would be nice right about now," he answered.

"Sure, I'll get that for you."

"Thanks, um… Carol was it?"

He got up. He could feel every jut and crease of the cobbled stone of the yard under him. She glanced at his feet. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice.

"You don't mind if I just leave my shoes out here? Had to wash them up."

"I can take them to the drying room, if you'd like," she offered. She bent to pick them up and they walked together towards the entrance.

"Didn't even know there was a drying room."

"I'll get you a pair of slippers too."

"That'd be great."

"Would you like me to get those jeans washed too?"

He'd hoped she hadn't noticed those either, though he supposed someone who made cleaning their living had trained their eye to hone in on dirt.

"I am meeting with the press later, aren't I? Shit. Nearly forgot about that. Can't exactly turn up like this."

"Feel free to use the shower rooms if you'd like to clean up," she said. "I'll get you a robe. Then just bring what you'd like washed over to the laundry room."

"Thanks. Probably should…"

He pulled a twig out from his hair as she unlocked the front door.

* * *

He'd showered for the second time that morning, and sat feeling self-consciously small in the expansive dining room in a GLC monogrammed bath robe and slippers. He'd decided to get his whole outfit washed just to be sure he wasn't reading a blow-by-blow report about his unpresentable appearance the next day.

Carol's shoes tapped across the tiled floor as she brought him over a tray.

"Coffee, Mr Paulie."

She sat a delicate porcelain cup of coffee in front of him, a matching paper thin milk jug and a sugar dish. He was almost scared to lift them for fear the frail handles would snap off in his fingers. It looked expensive to replace, not that anyone but himself would expect him to.

"Thanks," he answered.

"You're welcome. Thought you might like to read this too."

She placed the morning edition of the Water Seven Times in front of him, and he took a deep breath in to steel himself.

"Hmm, at least I'm not front page news on this one today," he scowled. "Anyway, thanks Carol."

She left him alone to read.

It was the same paper he'd scheduled to interview with later, so their take was what he'd get grilled on soon enough. He flipped through the pages scanning them for what he was after. He found it on page four. It was a shorter article than he'd been expecting, but what it lacked in word count it made up for in tone. It was cutting and to the point, but they'd clearly done their research. As much as he hated to admit their competence, there wasn't much exaggeration and he still came across badly.

"Well shit," he muttered to himself.

The door swung open again.

"Paulie! Good morning!" came the tellingly massive voice. "Carol told me you were in here. Just came to say hello, haven't seen you in a while."

"Tilestone, for Christ's sake keep it down. You'll wake Mr Iceburg," Paulie shot back.

"Sorry, can't help it! Anyway, what are you doing here this early in the morning anyway?" he asked, taking up a seat on the long table next to him. "Stay the night?"

"No!" he replied defensively. "Anyway, I could ask you the same question."

"Mr Iceburg's letting me stay in one of the guest rooms for a while. I was staying on Lulu's spare bed for a bit, but I kind of broke it… he wasn't too happy. My place got a bit of flood damage from Aqua Laguna, you see."

"Amazing the damage spread that far this year."

"Yeah, terrifying right?" Tilestone laughed nervously. "Anyway Paulie, I haven't said congratulations yet on your big news! Haha, it's amazing!"

He thumped Paulie on the back nearly winding him. Tilestone did nothing in small measures. It was both his charm and his curse.

"Thanks, I guess," he answered once he got his breath back. "I still don't really feel like I'm the right guy for the job though."

"Nonsense!" he grinned. "Anyway Paulie, Lulu said you were in some trouble again."

"No. Really, it's nothing at all. And keep your voice down about that. This is why we don't tell you things, you know?"

"Well, if you need any help, I've got your back."

"Appreciate it. But I'll be just fine. Just a little money needing paid back. No big deal."

"Well, I'm relieved! Had to make sure you were doing alright."

He thumped Paulie on the shoulder this time as he got back up. Paulie's arm went dead.

"Anyway, better head. That fishing ship ain't gonna build itself."

"You know, I'm kind of jealous. Starting to get pretty worried I'm never even going to see the shipyard again at this rate."

"Call on over this afternoon. We miss you over at Dock One."

"I'm missing you guys too, paperwork isn't exactly a thrill a minute," Paulie replied. "You know, if I get the chance I'll take you up on that offer."

"That's great! Lulu'll be around this afternoon too," Tilestone beamed. "He and the guys've nearly finished all the city repairs already. It's a good thing you called off that bet."

Paulie was sure it was meant to make him feel relieved, but it riled his more competitive side. He tried his best not to show it.

"Well, hopefully see you later then," he said.

"Bye Paulie!"

"Go on, get your loud ass out of here already."

* * *

Paulie was taking a read through the rest of the paper when Iceburg entered the room for breakfast. He took up a seat opposite him.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here Paulie."

"Mr Iceburg. Um, good morning."

"Anyway, what's the bath robe about?"

"Oh, I, well… I took a few detours on the way here," he shrugged, shifting a little uncomfortably in his chair. "Sort of messed myself up a little trying to dodge the general public. Nearly forgot about having to meet with the press this morning, so Carol offered to wash my clothes up for me."

"I could lend you something, if you'd like," he offered.

"No. Really. I'll wear my own this time. I think that'd be best."

"If you're sure."

"Yes."

Paulie saw Iceburg's gaze fix squarely on the newspaper between them.

"So you've read the paper then? Well, how bad was it?"

"I'm not going to lie, it was pretty bad. Not that I blame you really, it's those asshole reporters that wrote this shit."

He made to take a drink of his coffee, but he'd forgotten he'd already finished it.

"Sorry," Iceburg replied.

"Well, that's what this interview's for, right? Damage repair," Paulie said, with a nervous smile.

Carol entered the room with a clack of her shoes.

"Good morning Mr Iceburg."

"Ah, good morning Caroline," Iceburg replied, and got up from his chair to greet her. "How are you today?"

"Just fine. It's sure lively around here this morning. Nice, isn't it?" She smiled over at Paulie, still sat at the table. "Will I get you the usual?"

"That would be lovely, please," Iceburg said. "Have you eaten yet Paulie?"

"No, but I'm not really hungry."

"It would be good to have something before your interview. Could you bring enough for two?"

"No really, I'm not…"

"Yes, of course," Carol answered. "I'll refill your coffee too Mr Paulie."

"Thanks," he said, as she reached for his cup.

She left and Iceburg sat back in his chair. There was a moment of silence that Paulie wasn't sure whether to fill.

"Hey, uh, Mr Iceburg, you wouldn't mind doing some practice with me would you? For the interview?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't mind at all," he replied. "You don't mind if I take a read through the article first?"

Paulie spun the paper round his way and flipped to the right page. Iceburg fetched his glasses from his pocket. Paulie made note that he used them for more than just drafting after all.

"I'd probably rather you never read it at all, but read away. You'll get a pretty good idea of what they're going to throw at me after that."

Caroline brought in another tray and set out the table, bringing two coffees and a basket full of freshly baked brioche rolls with some butter and jam.

"Thank you, that's fantastic Caroline," Iceburg said.

He worked his way through the article quietly and Paulie took a roll just for something to do. It was still warm and the butter and jam melted deep into the sweet bread. He ate it much quicker than he'd meant to.

Iceburg was still reading, so he took another. And then a third.

* * *

It was about time for him to leave if he wanted to get over to the newspaper's studio in good time. He was dressed again and had even given his hair a comb through for good measure. He turned back to Iceburg before heading out the front door.

"Do you have any … advice?" Paulie asked him hesitantly. "For nerves."

"Just be yourself, you'll be just fine."

"I won't," he fussed. "You've been doing this shit for years so you probably have no idea what it's like being this worried about it."

"I still get nervous."

"You do?"

"Well, I'm only human Paulie," Iceburg replied. "Anyway, I have a little trick I use sometimes."

"It's not that thing where you imagine the interviewer in their underwear is it?" he blushed. "Cause that's really not going to do it for me."

"No," Iceburg laughed. "It's a little odd maybe."

He reached into his blazer pockets, pulling out a handful of seeds and a set of keys in one hand, his glasses case in the other. A couple of business cards fell out to the floor.

"You keep a load of crap in there," Paulie scolded.

He checked his inner pocket, and Paulie watched his expression change as he found what he'd been looking for. He pulled out a thin plastic tube and unscrewed the lid.

"It might seem silly, but it helps to calm your breathing," he said.

He drew out a wand from the tube and carefully blew a line of soap bubbles. Paulie watched unimpressed.

"Bubbles, really?" he said flatly. "That's ridiculous. And who came up with that one?"

"I was watching Chimney for Kokoro one afternoon before giving a speech," Iceburg explained. He offered the bottle to Paulie. "Here."

Paulie surprised himself by actually taking it. He tentatively took out the wand and blew but the bubble popped straight away. He tried again and did no better and he began to grow frustrated.

"God, I can't when you're watching me. It's too embarrassing," he said. "This is stupid."

"You have to relax a bit more," Iceburg offered.

Despite his self-consciousness, Paulie allowed himself to put a bit more effort into calming his breath before trying again. He blew slowly and a couple of bubbles floated out the end of the wand.

"That's better. Breathing exercises help slow the heartrate and lower blood pressure, so they can be quite calming," Iceburg explained. "Anyway, if you'd like, I could go with you? I wouldn't mind."

"Think it's better if you stay here and work on that list," Paulie answered, still feeling awkward. "I can manage. It's not like you're gonna be able to just hold my hand through these things forever…"

"No, of course not."

"I feel like I'm heading to my own execution," he mumbled, pushing open the door. "Oh, here," he said, handing the tube of bubbles back to Iceburg.

"Bring it with you," Iceburg said.

"Uh, alright."

Paulie stuck it in his top pocket between a pair of cigars.

* * *

"Mr Paulie? They're ready for you now," a young man called him. Fresh faced as he was, Paulie assumed he was probably the intern.

He led Paulie up the hallway and opened the door for him.

Paulie entered the room. The intern followed him in and stood in a corner with a couple more senior press women readying their pens and notepads.

"Nice to meet you Mr Paulie," the interviewer smiled. He got up and shook Paulie's hand.

Paulie nodded back without response. Not only was he still a mess of nerves, but they'd kept him on a seat in the reception waiting for at least two hours before finally calling him in to interview. He felt justifiably pissed off.

"Take a seat."

He did as told.

"Thanks for coming to talk with us today. You don't mind if we record this?" he asked. The thin man gestured towards a transponder snail on the table between them that had obviously been rigged up as a recording system.

"Well, no I guess," he replied.

"Can we get you anything, a drink maybe?"

"A glass of water would be nice," he said. He gave in to manners. "Please."

The intern entered a discussion with the two other reporters, then left the room. Apparently no one in the journalism business could get anything done without talking it over with a crowd of others of their strange species, but the kid eventually returned with a tall glass with ice and a slice of lemon.

"Thanks."

"So I'm not sure if you read our report this morning?" the interviewer began.

"Yes, I have," Paulie answered.

His seat was a little uncomfortable. The back rest tilted back too far, so he sat himself forwards straightening up.

"Is it true that you actually failed the Galley-La entry test?"

"Yes, first time around."

"So Mr Iceburg really rejected you."

"Yes. Can't believe I had the balls, but after that I went to go ask him to help mentor me through the test. Apparently no one had ever asked him before."

"So he took you on as an apprentice after that?"

"Think he was impressed with my initiative or something… "

"And then he began to train you?"

"Well, he was so busy that it was hard to fit me into his schedule," Paulie explained. He took a drink of his water and cleared his throat. "So at first, all I really did was shadow him. Course it was only when he started to teach me from scratch that I realised how I'd been doing everything wrong for years. Made sense I failed the test."

"Did you know Mr Iceburg personally before that at all?"

"Hadn't ever even spoken to him before. But I knew of him of course… everyone did. Back then I worked at what's now our Dock Four, and I'd seen him around our yard plenty of times. Seems like everyone called him when they needed advice."

"He had quite a lot of influence in the shipbuilding community even before Galley-La then?"

He glanced over at the reporters in the corner scribbling away. It was a little distracting.

"Yeah. Course we knew he'd worked on the Puffing Tom, so we were really intimidated by him, or I was at least… I mean, it was the Puffing Tom that first made me decide to become a shipwright after all."

"Oh really? So you already had a great deal of respect for him?"

"Well, yes of course," he admitted. "But you know, there was rumours about him, that he was this intense kind of a guy. So I'd always been a little nervous when I saw him about."

"That wouldn't have made approaching him all that easy then."

"I don't think I've ever been more scared of anything to be honest," he said with a sigh. "But I figured it was my last shot. If it didn't work, I figured that was it. It wasn't meant to be."

"Do you believe in that? Fate, Mr Paulie?"

"Well, I had a very religious upbringing. So to some extent, yeah."

"Could you tell us some more about that?"

"I grew up in a Catholic convent, it was like a boarding school. I shared a room with about twelve other kids."

"What was that like?"

"Like having a bunch of brothers and sisters. You didn't get a moment's peace honestly."

He'd plenty of good memories too of course, but the press had done nothing to deserve hearing them.

"Are you still religious?"

"I don't go to mass or confession as much as I should," he said honestly. "But I still believe in God."

"Mr Iceburg quite famously is an atheist. Do you ever clash about religion?"

He took a little pause.

"We don't talk about it really. I don't agree with everything that Mr Iceburg believes and I don't expect that he would feel the same way about things that I do."

"That's quite a mature way of thinking," the interviewer smiled at him. He seemed impressed.

"I just respect him, that's all."

"That's interesting," he replied.

Paulie saw the man look over to his fellows and watched as they gave him a hand signal like they expected him to bunt the ball and run to third. Apart from a baseball play, Paulie wasn't sure what else it was supposed to mean.

"Do you have much of a relationship beyond your professional working one?" he asked Paulie.

"I think of him as my mentor still, first and foremost," he explained. "As my boss second, and I think he does consider me a friend too, or he's said as much. Now that I've been working around headquarters lately, I feel like I'm starting to get more of a sense of him as a person. I'd consider him a friend too."

In the corner of his eye, the three continued to beckon the man on and Paulie was beginning to find it irritating.

"So you'd say that you're close?"

"Close?"

"I suppose what we're interested in, is why you? Not that we're questioning your abilities of course, but you're still quite young. Why did he pick you over some of the more experienced shipwrights of Dock One, do you think?"

"Honestly I have no idea," he said.

"Do you two have a special relationship?"

"If you're asking what I think you're asking, then no," he stated, folding his arms.

He glared at the man.

"And if you think Iceburg'd give anyone a promotion just cause they were lovers, I think you completely misjudge his professionalism."

"Oh…ok."

Apart from the frantic scratch of the two journalists' pens on their paper, the room went quiet.

"I was his first ever apprentice, that's probably the reason. Because I'm still young, there's plenty of time to train me to do the job right I suppose. "

"So a case of 'can't teach an old dog new tricks'?" the interviewer replied. He nervously laughed to try and lighten the mood but Paulie face remained serious.

"Maybe that's what he thought, I don't know. Ask him yourself."

"So…" he said, moving along the conversation. "We've heard you have a bit of a gambling problem."

Paulie finished his water and tried his best to think of Iceburg's advice to slow his breathing to calm himself.

"It's a hobby. Not a problem."

"You owe a fair few a fair bit of money from what we gathered. I'd consider that a problem."

It took everything in his power not to get riled up. He forced down the impulse to get up and deck the guy for that one.

"I suppose the city is worried about how you're going to manage the company's finances."

"Galley-La has an accountant," he stated. "It's not like I'd go betting them away, I do take my job seriously. And I always pay my debts on time."

"Have you always been a gambling man?"

"My dad was. He took me along with him to race courses and sports matches. That's just how we spent time together and it rubbed off on me."

"Before the convent?"

"Yes, I was a teenager already when I started living there."

"Forgive me for asking such a sensitive question Mr Paulie, but…"

"He up and left," Paulie interrupted. "Went off to chase another woman who ended up putting him through the wringer. Karma's just as much a bitch as she was."

"And your mother?"

"Became a nun."

"At the convent?"

He stopped dead.

"Shit," he said. "You have to take that off the record, alright?"

"Why's that?"

"Look, I can't explain," he panicked.

In thirteen years he'd never slipped up on their charade. He kicked himself for messing up at the worst possible moment.

"Just don't report on that. Please…"

"Alright," the man answered. But Paulie didn't trust his non-committal tone, or the glint in his eye that only someone who knew they'd stuck gold could hold.

"Please."

* * *

The interview went on longer than expected, and he'd had to stay afterwards for a photoshoot that he didn't know who to direct his rage at for not warning him about in advance. When he made his way back to Iceburg's office, it was already late in the afternoon and he received no reply when he knocked. He tentatively pushed open the door and found the room empty.

"Mr Iceburg?" he called.

"Oh, Paulie. Is that you finished already?" he heard Iceburg's voice come from down the hallway. "I'm in here. Three doors down on the left."

"What do you mean 'already'?" he huffed. "I thought it'd last an hour, tops."

Paulie followed his voice, and stepped into a room filled with boxes of papers that Iceburg had clearly spent the afternoon sorting.

"What do you think?" Iceburg asked.

"Of what exactly?"

"Your new office."

He took a look around. It was a little smaller than Iceburg's own, but similar, with plenty of open space, a sturdy mahogany desk and tall bookshelves lining the room fit to burst. It was nice, sure, but he couldn't imagine wanting to spend his days cooped up over papers by gaslight instead of up at the docks with a hammer in his hand and the sun shining on his face. He thought about Tilestone's offer from the morning and his heart sank a little knowing he'd missed the chance to get up there for his lunch break. It was nearing four.

"Thanks," he managed at last. "But don't really know what you're expecting me to say. All I know is you shouldn't have been wasting your time tidying when you've got a full schedule of important things to be getting on with."

"I thought it'd be something a bit more pleasant to come back to after your interview," Iceburg smiled at him. "Anyway, how did it go?"

"They don't exactly go easy on you do they? Did pretty well not to punch the guy to be honest."

"Hmmm," Iceburg answered with a frown that furrowed his brow. "Youth."

"Anyway, leave this to me and get back to it. You're working on the specs for those Marine fleet orders this week, right?"

"Well, yes," he said. "It was going well until I needed to find something in here and got side tracked."

"Would've been better to come back and hear you'd finished up another project or something," Paulie stated. "Anyway, can't change anything now."

"If I helped out, we could get this place cleared up faster," Iceburg offered.

"Oh no. You're not getting out of it that easy," Paulie argued.

"Worth a try."

Paulie kicked him out of the room.

* * *

He stayed on to sort out the office until it was dark outside. He turned out his light and closed over the door.

He went over to Iceburg's office.

"Just making sure you've been doing your work," he said, peering in. "I'm going to head."

"Of course," Iceburg smirked back and got up from his drafting desk.

"Your office key," he said. He crossed the room and handed it to Paulie. "I have a front door key cut for you too."

"Thanks," he replied, almost dropping them as he shoved them into the pocket of his jeans. "Well, goodnight. Don't work too late."

"I won't," he smiled. "Goodnight."

He locked the front door of the headquarters behind him, just to get used to it. The cover of night felt safer now that he'd people and conversations to avoid. He didn't have to resort to stealth just to make it home.

Once again, he found his landlady waiting on his entrance stairway.

"Ms Lia?"

"Oh, Paulie, sorry, you really have to forgive me," she fretted.

"What for, exactly?"

"Those men were back again. They left this."

She handed over a small brown parcel bound by elastic bands.

"I know I should have just put in your mailbox for you, but they were a bit forward. I was a little shaken up afterwards. I completely forgot about it."

"That's alright, really, I can imagine something like that could have given you a bit of a shock."

He scowled at the thought of Blanco's guys bothering an innocent old woman. He was going to have words with him.

"Well yes. But that's not the worst of it," she explained. She cupped her hands to her face worriedly. "Paulie, I'm sorry, but I took a little look at what was in it. I think it might be a good idea to go talk inside for a minute."

"That bad, is it?"

"You're lucky it was just me that got this envelope, that's all I'll say for now."

"Well, come on in then, I'll make you a cup of something. Tea or coffee?"

"Tea please," she answered.

He unlocked his door and she followed him inside.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Paulie stood next to her at her sink as they took care of the dishes from breakfast. Kokoro washed them then passed them his way. He took a plate and busied himself drying it with a fresh cloth and with some prompting from her as to where, he placed it neatly away for her where it belonged. He made a note that if he was going to spend the night drinking with her again, he'd have to stop letting her goad him on. Alcoholics made dangerous drinking partners.

"Hey yah know if yah wanna stick around, he'll be over later for lunch," she mentioned, passing a fist full of cutlery his way.

"Who?" he frowned.

"Well, who else?"

It took Paulie a moment.

"Little slow t'day," she chuckled.

"How would I even explain being here?" Paulie replied, taking a spoon from his pile of wet cutlery on the countertop. He gave it a once over and stowed it away in its drawer.

"I dunno, helpin' an old lady out with her Sunday chores?" she offered. "Think that'd impress Iceburg."

She reached and added a couple more knives to his pile.

"Thanks for the offer, but no. Couldn't stomach eating anyway to be honest."

"Don't fancy all sittin' round the table playin' a big happy family then?" she chuckled.

As he reached for another spoon, Paulie brushed a coffee mug off the slippery counter and it fell, smashing on her hard floor tiles. The sound cut into his headache. He got to his knees to pick up the pieces.

"Heh, oops, not ta worry," she assured him from above. "Justa mug."

"Sorry," he said.

She grabbed a brush and dustpan from under the sink and stooped to help him out.

"Listen," he began hesitantly, picking up a chip of ceramic and handing it her way. "I'm not really sure what I said last night, but I think you might have got the wrong idea. If I said anything about Iceburg… you know, just forget it, ok?"

"Not ta worry," she said. "Not quite all here though this morning, are yah?"

Kokoro rose to her feet and emptied out the pan into her bin.

"Not really," he mumbled, getting up. It felt like she hadn't really got his point, but he didn't push further.

He was struck with nausea and just about made it to vomit in her trash rather than all over the floor tiles.

"This hangover's a bitch," he said groggily.

"Always is," she replied, and helped set him down with a glass of fresh water and a few tissues to mop himself up.

Her arms sunk back elbow deep in hot water and citrusy bubbles, and she worked on mostly in silence except for the slosh of the dishwater and the clinking of cutlery and crockery finding their places.

"Feelin' any better? Good spew helps sometimes."

She slapped a wet, soapy hand on his shoulder, the scales of her fingertips rough on his skin, and at the unexpected sensation he jumped a little.

"Ooops, didn't mean to scare ya."

She placed her hand back unsteadily on his arm where it lingered a little long, as if she needed the extra moment of reassurance just for herself. She seemed a little lost in thought.

"Relax, I won't say anythin' bout what yah told me," she said quietly. "And sorry if I'm jumpin' the gun on yah."

"I get it though," he mumbled. "You just want someone to take care of him."

She finally let him go, and he took a loose dishcloth to his shoulder and dabbed at the damp bubbles dripping down his arm.

She smiled weakly at him.

"Well, he's still alive ain't he? So ya've done pretty ok lookin' after him so far."

Kokoro set the last of the cutlery on the counter and pulled the plug, letting the sink drain. She stood for a while, watching the soapy water swirl down into the holes, then sighed.

"And he talks about ya, ya know?"

He reddened a little and stared down at the table, not meeting her gaze.

"You sound like you've already made up your mind about us."

The last of the dishwater disappeared down the drain with a gargle.

He took his glass and sipped from it self-consciously.

"If it wasn't awkward enough… I mean, he's my boss."

"All I'm sayin' is don' write it off jus' on account of that."

"Yeah, and what if it didn't work out? I could lose my job. I could risk losing everything."

He was surprised to hear her snort a little back.

"Ha, ya talk like yer the only person who ever had anything ta lose," she said. "Aren't ya a gambler kid? Or is he somethin' finally too precious ta risk losin'?"

She let it hang in the air, and it lingered for far longer than felt comfortable for him.

"Well that's that," she said, her mood lightening as she placed her hands on her hips. "Thanks fer the help."

She slung her wash cloth up on a rail to dry.

"It was the least I could do," Paulie replied. "Although remind me not to let you get me drunk again."

"Heh well, no promises."

"I should probably head off soon," he added.

She glanced over at her clock hanging on the wall.

"Train should be arrivin' pretty soon, gets here on the hour onna Sunday. Gives yah 'bout twen'y minutes now."

She sat back down beside him, her knees creaking at the bend. The chair legs strained just as much to hold her as hers did getting on to it.

"But now that yah still got a few minutes ta wait around, yah gonna tell me the rest of what's been goin' on? What was in that parcel anyway?"

"Ok," he sighed.

Explanations were starting to feel tiresome, and he really wasn't feeling in the mood for it in his hungover state, but he supposed he was in her debt for being a listening ear and he didn't exactly have much else to offer.

* * *

He sat across his table from his land lady. Under the dull stream of light from the hanging lamp above his table, she eyed him nervously behind the steaming cup of tea clutched close to her. The parcel sat on the table in front of him, and Paulie stared down at it just as cautiously as she watched him.

"Just open it," she whispered. "Get it over with."

He opened the brown paper along the tear she'd made earlier, and pulled out a bulky stack of photographs. He stood to hold them closer to the light and leafed through. He moved quickly over some badly taken motion shots and pictures taken from a distance, unable to make much of them, but stopped at one in which he could just about make out Tilestone's unmistakable image of in the bottom corner. On the next, was a couple of the Franky Family's guys, he didn't know their names, but it was easy to make out the towers of Ennies Lobby in the background.

He swallowed.

"These…"

"Looks like they caught you."

He barely heard her over the sound of his own heartbeat. He found himself in plenty of them as he continued to flip through the pile. Lulu too, and most of the Straw Hats alongside with them.

"Well it's not like everyone in the city doesn't know we helped those guys out, though," he reasoned. "And it was mutual too. If it wasn't for the Straw Hats, everyone knows Iceburg would be dead right now."

"Sure, it's not like it would cause a scandal in Water Seven if these came out. The city sees everything that happened as more like a local victory even," she answered, her voice still lowered.

"But it was a major incident what happened with those pirates, you know Paulie?"

"Hmm yeah… I guess so."

He sat back down and pulled off his goggles, dropping them on the table top. He ran his hand back through his hair.

"Ugh. In the wrong hands this would be all the evidence the Marines or the World Government would need to confirm we were with them. They'd have every right to book us for collusion with the Straw Hats. Or at least all of us in these photos."

He spread the photos out in front of him.

"Here I was thinking this whole business with Blanco was just some small matter of personal debt. But now… what? Is he's blackmailing me?"

She took a timid sip of her tea.

"So you owe the man that sent those two money?" she asked.

"Yeah. I don't understand though. I did what he asked for, and I'm going to get the money back to him too, so why pull this all of a sudden?"

His voice raised and she placed a finger cautiously over her lips.

"Paulie, I honestly can't answer that," she whispered.

Paulie got to his feet and made his way to his countertop, bracing tensely against it. He stood for a minute to gather himself, trying his best to calm down. Ms Lia took a photograph sat in front of her and studied it closely, saying nothing.

"He mentioned my dad," Paulie frowned. "So maybe this is something to do with him somehow. I wonder if he could've done anything to piss the guy off lately?"

"Who knows?" she replied. "Could you ask him, your father?"

"I'll have to try. Getting a straight answer from him's not exactly easy though, but I'll try to call him about it I guess."

He sighed deeply.

"And I'll have to go talk to _him_ too…"

"If it's any good, I'm willing to help you out any way I can," she answered. "An old woman like my self's probably not good for much, but if you need any money, I have a little you can borrow."

He looked at her, and in the dim of the dusty light that seemed to pick out and exaggerate every line and crack in her features, she looked so small and aged that her offer was almost heart breaking.

"Honestly, I don't want anyone else involved with this, if possible. Thanks though, I appreciate it."

"Now that I've seen those photos, I guess I am already though."

"Hmm."

They sat in silence a moment. Maybe it wasn't going to be as easy to take everything into his own hands and get it sorted alone the way he'd wanted. He wished everyone who was offering him help would give it up and start acting a little more selfish. This city and its people were too nice for their own good.

"I honestly don't know when I'd be able to repay you," he said.

"It's fine," she said kindly. "I don't have it on me right now of course, but I'll bring it to you as soon as I can."

"Make sure you keep enough for anything you might need it for."

"It's only a little," she said.

"Anything is a huge help. Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can do?"

"No. Just don't tell anyone about these photos," he insisted.

"I'm not stupid you know?"

She smirked and it cut through the tension. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a massive weight off his chest.

"Of course," he smiled. "If anyone comes round again, keep playing the innocent old lady act alright? Don't let them know you know anything."

"I can do that," she said.

"Most importantly though… keep safe alright? Just stay in and lie low. That's the best thing you can do. He doesn't really seem above anything right now so I don't exactly know what else he could pull. If you see any more of his hired suits, head inside and don't answer the door. And if there's any way to let the other residents around here know that without causing any sort of alarm…"

"Are you going to talk to Mayor Iceburg about this?" she cut in. "I mean, if it's Galley La business…"

"It's not," Paulie insisted. "And he won't hear about it. We acted on our own helping out the Straw Hats, and if worst comes to worst…"

He hesitated.

"We'll resign from the company… say it's nothing to do with GLC."

"That's very noble," she said, though it was hard to ignore the shock in her tone.

"It's not," he asserted. "If Galley-La goes down, Water Seven goes with it, and I can't let that happen. Not after everything this city's been through lately."

"And everything Mayor Iceburg has been going through to look after it," she added softly.

Paulie nodded. "Yeah…"

"I suppose I should go," she said, getting to her feet. "But if you need anything, really Paulie, don't hesitate to come and ask."

"I hope I won't, but thank you."

"Try not to worry about it too much, though that's easier said than done, of course. But take care, Paulie."

"You too."

When she left, it was hard for him to calm. His pulse and mind both raced. He lay in his bed for hours staring at the crack in his ceiling hoping for some fail safe plan to form itself in his mind or for sleep to take him out of his cycle of thought. Eventually he dozed, but even in sleep, worry didn't give him a moment of peace. He didn't seem to get decent night of sleep at all lately.

* * *

When he woke, it was with a start. And much later than he should have been at work.

Distracted as he was with ruminating on his rush to work, he pushed passed any approaches on his way to work without regard for manners.

Thankfully, the majority of Water Seven citizens had taken advantage of the Saturday morning to sleep in later than usual too, so only a couple were about to draw offense at being rudely shrugged off.

* * *

Paulie rapped at Iceburg's door to no response then heard a faint tune coming from down the hallway. He reached what was now his own personal office and turned the handle.

"Paulie, good morning," Iceburg greeted brightly. "A little late, but that's fine."

He was busying himself again moving things around Paulie's new office. It looked in significantly better shape than it had the day before, feeling now like a work space rather than just a cluttered pile of Kalifa's old things. A record was playing and the window was letting in a sweet scented summery breeze.

"You've been working hard," Paulie said.

Iceburg hummed along with the tune as he moved the last couple of leather books on to a now well filled bookcase.

"I have, haven't I?" he smiled. "Oh, what do you think of this painting?"

He brought Paulie to a large canvas at the far side of the office. It was a large, modern looking piece, mostly a stark white with bold coloured abstract marks that Paulie couldn't be sure whether they were supposed to look like something specific or not. At a guess, it resembled a ship but looked almost as likely to be a dog taking a shit so he was none the wiser what the artist had been aiming for.

"It was just delivered this morning. I bought it for the room, but I'm not sure that it works with it."

Paulie positioned himself in front of it and stood for a little.

"Um, it's fine," he answered.

"Well, that's not exactly a raving review," Iceburg replied, with a short laugh. "Anyway, if you want to take it down we can find somewhere else to hang it. And oh, of course, if you have anything you want to put on the walls, feel free to make this office your own."

"Thanks. I think I'll just keep it here though," Paulie said, with a scratch of his head. "I mean I don't really know a lot about art exactly, I'm sure it's a good piece."

"The only thing that really matters is if you like it or not," Iceburg added.

"I don't know really, to be honest. I don't really have any strong feelings about it one way or the other."

They stood for a minute and looked at it until Paulie felt his own lack of response begin to grow a little awkward to him. The record changed tune and it was a song he didn't really like much.

"Do _you_ like it?" Paulie asked.

"Hmmm, I'm not entirely sure whether I do or not either," Iceburg replied cupping his chin a little. He furrowed his brow with a tilt of his head as if a slightly different angle might make a difference.

"Why did you buy it then?"

"It looked different in the gallery. I suppose things can look really quite different in another light," Iceburg mused.

"Guess so…"

Paulie watched him reach and turn the painting to hang upside down.

"A little better, I think," he said, though he still sounded unsure.

"Hmm, anyway, you should leave this room to me now," Paulie moved on. "It looks like you've probably spent all night as well this morning in here when you could have been getting some proper rest or working on something a bit more important."

"Well, this was important too you know," Iceburg insisted. "My Vice needs a suitable work environment. I want to get you started on some design projects as soon as possible."

Iceburg moved to an oak desk by the window, patting it proudly.

"A new drafting table too, did you notice?"

"Start designing already?" Paulie worried. "Jesus, I feel like my drafting work's still too scrappy for that."

"Don't worry, I'll be going over all your work while you're still training," he replied, and started to busy himself again with more arranging, placing some papers away in a drawer. "If there's any problems with your blueprints, I'll show you how to fix them. The only way to learn is through doing. And well, of course, you're not going to get everything right first time. I wouldn't expect you to."

Iceburg glanced up to smile at him, but Paulie frowned back.

"Don't get your hopes up too high alright?"

"Paulie," Iceburg began.

Paulie looked his way but Iceburg faced the shelves and didn't look back this time.

"I'm sure all this isn't exactly easy on you," he said carefully. "Well, I'm pretty sure you never really wanted this at all, did you?"

Paulie took a moment to think and another to respond.

"I'd be lying if I said I did," he answered. "It wasn't really ever a dream of mine to become a designer. I mean, that you think I'm actually capable enough, of course, it's an honour. It's just that…"

"Well, I understand," Iceburg said, placing a few ornaments on a shelf. "You want to be back out there in the shipyard."

"Of course," he answered, with a little more enthusiasm than he managed to hold back. "I mean, I love it, being a shipwright. Maybe in time I'll feel different about drafting, but right now I miss the grafting out there."

He stared at the pattern in the teak floor boards, not wanting to keep following Iceburg about the room with his eyes. It felt somehow invasive.

"And honestly," he added hesitantly. "I don't know that I'm ready to step up to the challenge either."

"It's ok to be anxious, it's a big change for you," Iceburg responded. "Change isn't exactly easy. I guess that's why all of us tend to want to resist or avoid it sometimes."

Paulie wondered whether he busied himself to make the conversation feel less intimate and if Iceburg had always taken this approach to avoid awkwardness, though he couldn't really recall specific moments. Right now though he felt like Iceburg staring him straight in the face would only have made it harder to speak his mind on the matter and it was relieving that they finally had the chance to have a proper honest talk about it.

"It's ok to grieve a little too. But of course, this doesn't mean you'll never build again as well, of course, so keep that in mind," Iceburg called from the shelves. "The role of the designer is less hands on, of course. But there's still times where you'll get to build. And of course, there's few things that are more satisfying than building a ship you've modelled yourself."

"Yeah, I can imagine, I guess," he answered with a short shrug.

"Trust me," Iceburg added, and for the first time in a few minutes, he turned to fix Paulie with a gaze and a brief smile.

Paulie would, of course, trust him with anything. Almost.

"I've started shortlisting candidates for my new secretary, by the way," Iceburg added quickly, diffusing the moment. "The sooner we can hire someone, the sooner you can start your training."

"So you actually have been doing something useful," Paulie joked, and Iceburg went back to another piece of filing.

"I don't know whether to be offended by that or not," he scoffed. "Oh. And, yes. By the way, there's an event coming up next week. I know these things don't particularly interest you, but you'll be expected to attend now your position's been made official."

"Ugh, well I suppose there's no getting out of it," Paulie complained.

"That's the spirit," Iceburg chuckled. "It's a formal occasion, so you'll need a suit for these things. I can take you tomorrow to get fitted for one if you like?"

He looked round and Paulie met his eyes with a blank expression.

"Um, sure."

He shifted awkwardly.

"Really? I think I expected a bit more protest," Iceburg replied. "I'll take you to my tailor in the afternoon. It'll be a Sunday, but I'm sure if I contact him he could arrange to see us privately. I have another errand to get done as well afterwards. That would suit you alright, yes?"

Paulie nodded. He didn't really know how else to respond.

"Anyway, there isn't much I can give you to do at headquarters today," Iceburg said, leaving his pottering and returning to Paulie's side. "But do you want to go and check up on how things are progressing at the shipyard? Lulu gave me a midweek report on how the projects are coming along, but he's on a day off today so if you'd like…"

"Yes," Paulie replied abruptly, and Iceburg didn't need to say more.

Without much talk, Paulie scrambled to ready himself.

"Thanks," he shouted back on his way out, and Iceburg watched him disappear bemused.

He left the headquarters at a sprint, not able to head to the docks quickly enough.

* * *

While he'd expected it, it still struck him at the yard just how invigorated he felt to be back amongst the bustle of work. It was another day of calm after the recent storm, bright and slightly breezy weather, a day when the workers were in high spirits, and the chatter of voices and laughter mixed with the sounds of industry. And, to his relief, they all greeted him just as usual, no fussing or crowding him as he might have been surrounded by in the city.

He toured the docks, checking up on each and their progress and, where prompted, helped here and there to instruct or demonstrate as needed, losing himself in his work. He took a moment to look over the repaired Dock One, watching the high cranes and feeling the sun beam down on him.

"Paulie!"

It was Tilestone's booming voice that cut through his moment, but in such high spirits, he welcomed his friend's noisy interruption.

"Tilestone! You wouldn't believe how great it feels to be back at the shipyard," he beamed, and slung an arm around Tilestone's massive shoulder.

"You're in a good mood!" he laughed.

"I am, yeah," Paulie said, letting Tilestone go.

"Here to work today?"

"Bits and pieces. Mainly checking up on things," Paulie answered. "Anything to report back to Iceburg?"

"As far as I know things are going pretty well," Tilestone boomed. "Everything's either on or ahead of schedule it seems."

"That's good news. Anything I can help out with?" he asked eagerly.

"We could use your rigging over here," Tilestone replied, gesturing over his shoulder at a large brigantine with bare masts just seemed to beg Paulie to be strung.

Paulie ran to the store room to fetch his tools from his locker.

* * *

Late afternoon, and at a quieter moment, Tilestone took a chance to breech the subject. He was trying his utmost to be as silent as possible, Paulie could tell. It just wasn't overly effective.

"That trouble you were in?" Tilestone began. "Manage to get everything sorted out?"

"Trouble?" Paulie asked.

It took him a moment. In the buzz of spending the day at the yard, he'd completely pushed all else from his mind.

"Oh," he said quietly remembering. "That."

He grimaced.

"Shit."

"I'll take that that's a no then?"

Where earlier, in good mood, it hadn't bothered him, now Tilestone's voice was like a droning fog horn. One that seemed to draw threat of attention to him he didn't want.

"Keep it down would you, God Tilestone."

"Sorry. Pissed you off now haven't I?" he laughed guiltily.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you. Sorry Tilestone."

"Maybe I shouldn't have reminded you."

"No it's alright," Paulie began gravely. "I think you needed to. I have, well, I have things to do."

He looked around for a moment to make sure no one was looking their way.

"Listen," he said in a hushed voice. "I need to leave a little early, alright? You couldn't report back to Iceburg for me could you? I think I've got notes on the progress of everything here."

Paulie pulled out a sheet of folded papers from his cargo pocket.

"Drop it by his office could you? And if you could apologise I couldn't do it myself I'd really appreciate it."

"I'd ask what's up, but I'm pretty sure by now you'd tell me if you wanted to," Tilestone replied.

"Pretty much," he patted Tilestone on the back. "Sorry, but I'll manage this myself."

"Yeah, well, don't go getting yourself hurt or something Paulie. If you do I'll be going after the guy that does it myself."

Tilestone grit his teeth and raised his fist in display. It was reassuring to Paulie to feel he had friends he could trust had his back now. There was definitely no way a loud mouth like Tilestone could ever be a secret government agent.

* * *

In a less panicked state of mind, he'd have taken maybe an hour or two to sit and prepare for their meeting. But steeled from a day of hard work and a burst of adrenalin had a funny way of rushing him into things.

Before he knew it, he was at front of Blanco's headquarters. He pressed the buzzer at the security door, and there was barely a pause before it opened and pushed in for him and he stepped into the shade inside where a couple of Deano's large escorts met him at either side.

* * *

"Paulie," Deano said quietly as Paulie was ushered into his bright, clinical office room.

He sat at his desk with a shallow iced drink in one hand and a thin cigar butted between his stubby fingers in the other.

"You sent guys round to my place yesterday, right?" Paulie pressed, crossing the stark white room and approaching him with speed.

The guards moved swiftly behind him. An empty chair sat at the front of Deano's desk and Paulie stopped short of it.

"Well? What was that envelope all about anyway?" he added.

"Isn't it obvious?" Deano answered calmly.

"Honestly, no. And I'm losing my patience."

"No need to get testy. I'm blackmailing you, there's really nothing more to it than that," Deano replied. He took a puff from his cigar and let out the exhale in a neat smoke ring.

"Honestly though, it's nothing personal. Cigar?" he offered, pushing a wooden box along the desk with a haired knuckle. "Torpedoes from the South Blue. They're expensive. Sit."

Paulie ignored the offer.

" _Nothing personal_?" he repeated in disbelief.

"I need money right now kiddo, and lots of it," Deano replied, with a swill of his glass.

He raised it and took a mouthful.

"That private surgery doesn't come cheap, you know?"

"So you decided to take it up with someone you know won't be able to pay you?" Paulie sniped. "Not exactly your best bet at getting it."

"You just got a pay raise with that promotion I assume? I was hoping you might go running to daddy for help again."

"Stop insinuating shit would you?" Paulie snapped.

He slammed a fist on Deano's table.

Deano coughed, a smoky, guttural cough and his guards swooped forward, one restraining Paulie and the other moved to offer Deano a refresh of his drink. The boulder of a man filled his glass and Deano took a long gulp, his cough eventually subsided.

"Easy there now boy," he said, wheezing a little. "Get so aggressive and you'd start to make a guy think that maybe you and Iceburg really did have something going on."

"Fuck you," Paulie spat, riling in the fierce hold of the other guard.

"Like a stray dog," the large man laughed. "Someone should get this boy a lead."

"Come on Guy, be civil," Deano said, and he ushered his guard to place Paulie in the chair in front of him. He dropped Paulie into it and made sure he stayed put.

"There you go. Now, have a seat Paulie and let's talk this over," he added.

"Take it back," Paulie growled. "Maybe then we can talk."

"Alright, I apologise, ok?" Deano said.

The guard strengthened his clutch on Paulie's shoulder and he had no option but to let it slide.

"I know you're skint," he said.

He seemed to be doing his best to summon some degree of sympathy.

"Always are, of course. Trust me Paulie. I wouldn't be doing this if I had any other options. But of course it is about your connections. If there's anyone that has money in this city it's your boss of course. "

"I already asked him to do that favour for you, and I'm not about to go draining company funds on some blackmailing crap," Paulie stated sharply.

"And even if he was to help out," he added. "It's not exactly going to look right on Galley La's accounts if some big chunk suddenly gets withdrawn for no good reason. It'd cause trouble. And not just for him. If Galley La's reputation slips, Water Seven dies with it. Our company's the only thing keeping this city together and you fucking know it, everyone does."

"Well, you know. Beg, borrow… _steal_. I don't care where it comes from," Deano said, and Paulie felt his tone grow desperate.

He knew Paulie was right and it ruptured his bravado.

"Can't you just go and get a loan? Like a _decent_ person?" Paulie asked.

"I have tried. Declined. They don't give loans to people in… less favourable lines of work," he said sadly.

"Am I supposed to feel bad for you?"

"Unfortunately you're just the kind of guy lady luck shits on. As it happened, I came across those photographs and took what opportunity I had. Believe me, like I said, it's nothing personal. Just tough luck."

"Came across?"

"An associate of mine, a journalist, managed to get hold of them," Deano explained.

He reached into his desk drawers and fished for a moment until he found what he was looking for. He placed a photo between them taken from the Main Station, with Paulie and Nami caught together in the rising storm.

"He was working on blowing up some shitty little tabloid love story about you and that young lady. Thought it'd be a great scoop what with all the attention you've been getting lately in the press. But I took a look at all the shots he'd built up and realised they were much more valuable than that."

He blew another smoke ring and Paulie was reminded with some bitterness how the man had once sat with him and taught him to make them himself. They hadn't always been on bad terms, or so it had seemed back then.

"Really, it's like I did you a favour. They were about to run that article, you know? It would have had made your cooperation with those pirates all public overnight."

"No one believes a cheap tabloid story," Paulie replied. "And besides the city already gets the gist about that."

"Still, does the government?" Deano suggested. "Surely any whiff of your involvement with them and you'd have investigators on your tail within minutes."

"You don't really expect me to thank you?"

"In cash. That would be nice."

"And if I don't… you'll sell the photos?"

"Now you understand. I don't want to have to sell you out. In the end, like you said, it wouldn't exactly turn out well for me either if Galley-La's reputation gets tarnished."

He stubbed his cigar into his pristine white desk and when he lifted the butt, his guard moves to wipe the stain clean.

"But I don't need your cooperation if you'd rather refuse. Either way, I'll get the money I need. To me, that's all that matters right now. And If Water Seven sinks to the bottom of the ocean, so be it. I'm not about to sink with the ship. Let it. I'll find somewhere else to go."

It was calm and ruthless, and Paulie realised he no longer had any leverage over him.

He sighed in defeat.

"How much exactly are you after then? And when by?"

"Good to hear you've come round," Deano answered. "You have until the bill's due in full, so that buys you some time. A few weeks probably. I won't ask for anything before that, but believe me when I say that if you can't get it for me by then I'll have found a buyer for those photos. Sorry Paulie."

Deano passed him a sheet of paper, and at the bottom was a figure with a stream of digits longer than he was sure he'd ever seen.

"That much huh?"

At this point he had few options.

"God, well, I'll try."

"Good to hear."

Deano gestured to the door.

"Let's keep on good terms alright?" he added.

Paulie held his tongue as he got up to leave.

* * *

"I went to the bar to think," Paulie said. "See if I could come up with anything at all. Then I got talking to you."

"So what're ya going to do?" Kokoro asked.

The light was sharp on her porch. It bounced harshly from the rippling surface of the waves and the intense glare off her whitewashed wooden beams made his eyes wince. They stood and waited, watching the little speck of the Puffing Tom as it drew closer. It drew a solitary streak across the solid block of blue sea, cutting the sky at the neatly ruled horizon.

"God knows, but I'll have to work something out," he replied. "But don't tell Iceburg anything. He'd only give me the money and that isn't an option."

She took him into her arms and he reluctantly let her squeeze the life from him. His whole body ached. How long had it been since he'd had a hangover this bad? He didn't want to think of his old drinking mates, but his ex-work mates came to mind and the thought of Lucci and Kaku returned as if fresh yet again, it still wasn't any easier to deal with.

He stood for a moment, trying to find the right words.

"Listen, Ms Kokoro?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for, um… being there, letting me get some things off my chest. I feel like I haven't really had someone to talk with lately."

"Well, it was my pleasure. And if ya need me, well ya know where ta find me don't ya?"

"Appreciate it," he mumbled awkwardly.

From inside the house, her responder snail sounded.

"Hold a sec," she said disappearing into the station house. It took her a few minutes and then she returned, bringing with her a glass of water.

"I said Iceburg was visiting this afternoon, but seems like yah forgot," she announced.

"Hmm?"

"Called me to let me know he wouldn't be here. Spendin' the day with you apparently."

She smirked as Paulie reeled.

"Crap, he said he'd take me to get a suit today for that function," he replied. "And I've got this hangover, shit."

"Take these," she said, handing him the glass and a couple of round white tablets.

She fished a pair of oversized sunglasses from her back pocket as well.

"Should help a little."

"God," Paulie groaned, and took the pills and threw them back with the glass of water.

She pressed the glasses into his hands and while he looked at them with distaste, he still took them and placed them in a pocket should his need for them be great enough.

"Have a nice date," Kokoro chuckled.

"Don't joke," he stated. "Not in the mood."

She sat laughing to herself as the train pulled in to the station.

Paulie got in and tried to find a quiet corner where he might get some shut eye and hopefully sleep a little of the worst of his headache off.

He watched Kokoro from his window, still giggling like an old loon as she waved him off.

He pulled his window curtain and shut his eyes, but Kokoro's grin loomed in his mind, and he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he shouldn't have chosen to share all of his close kept secrets with such a loose cannon.

* * *

 _ **Chapter Notes:**_

 _Apologies for such a long delay for this chapter. I had some serious writer's block with this story (this is what you get for not really planning out properly) and got a little lost as to where in the world it was going, but I've recently got back in to the swing and I'm having a lot of fun working on it again._

 _Thank you very much for reading, whether you've had to wait this whole time for the next part or you're new to the story, and hopefully the wait next time won't be as long._

 _Eventually I think I plan on going back through the whole work and re-working it somewhat, but for now, I think I'll just try to enjoy finding out where the story is going to end up myself before any big redrafts._

 _Thanks for any feedback of course, and if you have any thoughts at all to give as a reader, they'd be greatly appreciated!_


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